How To Corrupt An Angel For 7 Days
by Waiting To Be Broken
Summary: Long ago an angel and a human fell in love. But soon God found out and separated them, punishing them cruelly. Now, 500 years later, the angel is finally going to be forgiven. But would the human-now-turned-demon allow that?
1. Prologue

How To Corrupt An Angel For 7 Days

Prologue

a.k.a

Long Ago And Far Away

It was over. Finally! Lucifer was in the cage, Sam had taken control over his body, just for a second but it had been enough. He had jumped in the hole in the wall, leaving Dean to stare behind him. And just as the oldest Winchester's shock had passed and he had been able to cry out his brother's name, the hole had closed. But not before it had thrown a body in Dean's legs. Now, Dean, contrary to popular belief, wasn't stupid. Of course, he had checked the Satan's former vessel and so what if after it hadn't reacted on anything he had hugged it, rocking it slightly while fighting back tears. Sue him! He had been sure that he would never see his brother again no matter what happened so he had been allowed a few chick-flick moments.

But now everything was perfect. True, his brother was in a hospital but at least he was alive and wasn't sharing his meat-suit with Lucifer. Bobby was with him right now, so that meant he could have some time alone with Castiel.

"So what do you intend to do now? Being human and everything," Dean asked the moment they stepped in their motel room.

"I was thinking of getting a job but I'm not sure what I'm good at," Cas refused to meet his eyes as he said that.

"I thought you will stay with us," the hunter frowned.

The former angel shook his head, murmuring, "I'm useless now, Dean. I'm only going to be a burden."

The oldest Winchester smiled. Cas really had ditched the pompous way of speaking in the time they had spent together. Then the meaning of the words really sunk in and he grimaced.

"You aren't useless, Cas. You know a hell of a lot of stuff about demons and other creatures, even more than my geeky brother and _that _is saying something. Besides..л I want you with me." He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist. He brought the blue-eyed man's body closer and nuzzled his nose in his neck.

"D-dean..?" moaned Castiel, his voice raspy and breathless. However, he didn't pull away so Dean considered it a victory of a sort.

"Don't tell me you didn't mean it!" the hunted whispered, feeling as if someone was crushing his heart in an iron grip. The former angel had told him he loved him before he and Sam had disappeared in that building in Detroit. Had it been just a joke? Maybe Cas knew about his feeling and had decided that there wouldn't be any harm in granting a dying man's wish. Or maybe Cas didn't know what it meant...

"I meant it but... I thought we won't survive the fight. Dean, you have to understand.." Cas pushed the man slightly but put his hands on his chest to assure him that he didn't want to be away from him, either. He could feel Dean's heart thumping underneath his palms- so rapid, in full contrast with his calm expression. He caressed the skin and continued, "It's forbidden for angels and humans to be together."

"But you aren't an angel anymore." If it had been said in different circumstances or by someone else it would have hurt Cas but now it just amused him. The whine in the voice of the toughest hunter he knew, no that he knew many, was clear. He didn't have time to say anything, before Dean crushed their bodies together.

"Please let me show you... how good it can be," he kissed the angel-now-turned-human's neck and whatever Castiel had intended to say died in his throat. He nodded slightly but apparently it was enough because suddenly their lips were connected, their hips rolling slightly against one another. Cas moaned into the kiss, gripping tightly the shirt Dean was wearing, and an identical sound fell from the hunter's mouth. The kiss wasn't perfect, in fact it was all teeth and saliva bit it was the best one the oldest Winchester had ever had... and he had had many.

Dean lifted Castiel and he wrapped his legs around his torso. The ex-angel felt something hard poking his stomach and smiled.

"That, dear Cas, is a hard-on," told him Dean matter-of-factly.

"I might be a virgin but I'm not an idiot, Dean," laughed Castiel and to emphasize his point slide his hand down Dean's body to cup his fast hardening member. The Winchester growled, "You. With me. In bed!"

Cas nodded enthusiastically, already taking his coat off as fast as he could, trying as well not to fall from Dean's arms. And as if it wasn't hard enough the hunter decided to tease his hole through his pants.

"Oh," the blue eyed man moaned and jumped slightly, making Dean laugh. However, his laugh quickly died when the former angel squeezed his member again. Dean had to remember not to tease angels while they had their hands on his extremely sensitive parts.

"You mentioned something about a bed?" grinned Cas evilly but Dean shut him up with a kiss. It wasn't something special, not for an outsider point of view (and if there was someone who was watching them Dean was going to kick their ass) but for the hunter it was everything. Those warm, soft lips against his, the shy tongue that still battled his own, even thought hesitantly. If he knew that this would be their last kiss... their last intimate touch for centuries he would have been gentler, he would have held the other close to cherish the moment. But he didn't and a second later was a second too late.

Suddenly his stomach turned, almost like when angels zapped him. Everything was dark and he tried to open his eyes but in panic realized that he couldn't. He brought a hand in front of his face and found a blindfold wrapped around his eyes. Except the material it was made of was weird... when he touched it it was like he was touching cold water, and no matter how hard he tugged on it he couldn't remove it.

"Father," a familiar voice- Cas- said and Dean froze. Father... like God?

"Castiel," a pause,"Dean Winchester." The voice was deep and confident. The words as if spoken in the hunter's mind made him shudder. But a few seconds later he recovered- he had fought angels and demons and the Satan himself- that creature, even though insanely powerful, wasn't going to make him stop loving Cas. Because Dean was sure they were here because of that. And the fact that the hunter was still mad at God for just ditching them with the Apocalypse on their door didn't make the situation any less comfortable for him.

"To me came the information that you two are engaged in immoral activities," the voice said distantly. Even though the words were neutral Dean could hear slight disgust. And it made him see red... figuratively, of course, he was still pretty much blind.

How dared God cast them here. So He didn't care about the future of the world but the love life of his _ex_-warrior was His business? The hunter opened his mouth to say something extremely rude but no words came out. He touched his lips but something was preventing him from speaking. Then he felt something funny touch his cheek, so delicate that it kind of tickled him and he smiled mentally. It was the former angel's way of telling him not to worry- touching him with the wings he, by some chance, still had. Cas knew him so well. He was sure that even the blindfold was his idea, seeing that God would be so happy if he just dropped dead, with his brain coming out of his eyes.

"Yes, Father, and we intend to keep it that way," finally said the former angel so calmly that it could had been considered coldly.

"Be careful, Castiel. You do not wish to make me angry. Angels and humans should never be together. Your... relationship must end!"

"You are right, Father," Cas responded submissively and Dean's stomach turned. But before he could freak out and throw himself at his almost lover(only to find out that he had been "glued" to the floor) the baby-blue-eyed man continued, "But I don't have my grace anymore. I'm no longer an angel so you have no right to tell me who I am allowed to love."

"That's enough," the voice was harsh now. "You will be punished for your behaviour, Castiel. You will spend your time on Earth like a regular human. You will not be allowed a relationship of any intimate nature thus the day you turn 21 would be your last as the human you are. And when you die you will soon be reborn as someone else until you finally realize your mistake. And you, Dean Winchester, you will spend the rest of eternity in the pit!"


	2. Day One

**A/N **Well, um, sorry about the mistake in the summary and thanks to the anonymous person who at least told me about it. I appreciate it. Characters aren't mine and so on. Next chapter.

Chapter 1

Day One

a.k.a

Meeting after so long

Dean Winchester was furious. He had _finally_ put his hands on the angel _he_ had captured a few weeks ago, the angel that ever since then had been tossed around but not even once given to the demon responsible for its visit to Hell, when he had been called by his master.

As he was walking demons parted in front of him. They feared him, he smirked. They knew that he can kill them just with a snap of his fingers. And so he did. Someone had looked at him the wrong way or hadn't moved far enough or was just there- he killed it. Who would care anyway, they were just a bunch of weak demons. And after all that was who he was now. Yes, Dean was Alastair's best apprentice. He had the skills, he was strong enough to kill a demon, not send it to the darkest corner of hell but actually kill it, he had the imagination... he had the hatred. Of course, he hadn't always been like that. There had been a time when he'd been different but it had been so long ago he hardly remembered anything except one face. A face that haunted him in his dreams. The only thing that could scare the cold-blooded Winchester.

He opened the door. Inside was Alastair, his back turned to the door, only his hand visible, because of the big chair he was sitting on. He was holding a goblet, full with what Dean could only assume was blood. The older demon turned around and gestured to him to sit on the chair opposite his. With a quiet but firm step the ex-hunter approached his teacher and stood beside the seat he was offered. He couldn't wait to get out of there.

"And if that isn't my best apprentice," smirked Alastair, his voice mocking.

"Don't act like you weren't the one to call me here. What do you want?"

"So cold," pouted the older demon, looking anything but cute. After he received a death glare from Dean he dropped his act and handed the goblet to his best student. " Take a good look."

Dean reached automatically to take it, not really caring about what Alastair wanted him to see. For all he knew the demon was going to show him one of his hand-works... again. But then he glanced at the red liquid and froze. That face. The unruly dark hair, the light blue eyes. He was a few years younger, that awful big trench coat that Dean hated because it hid his perfect body was replaced by a priest's gown... but it was him!

He took a few deep breaths, trying to stop his trembling and put the goblet down, knowing that if he held it any longer he may drop it.

"Is that supposed to be a joke? Because I'm not laughing," he said with a calm voice even thought his insides were on fire. If that was true... if Cas was a priest that would mean...

"Aren't you happy to see your ex? He is doing very well, you can see it by yourself. He is in the 2030 year. After the apocalypse people become very pious. The ideal time for redemption. They had even given him his vessel and guess his name- Castiel. A 20 year-old boy from a family of priests. There is no mistake that would be his last rebirth."

"And what do you want me to do?" the apprentice snarled, trying not to show the storm of emotions that was in his heart. He already knew about it. After they were separated by Him he always looked after his angel. But the last time he checked, a year ago, Cas was just an ordinary boy with a really religious family.

"Seduce him," shrugged Alastair like it was the most natural thing to do when your former lover had been finally forgiven for what he had done. "If he repeat his sin his punishment would be doubled. And if _you_ do it it would be even better. I would even get your body back, not only angels can do it, you know."

"Why should I do that?" through clenched teeth questioned Dean. Of course, he wanted to see his ex-lover but he had to hold an appearance. He was a merciless demon, not a love-sick fool.

"Can't you understand?" Alastair's voice got higher as he hit the table with his hand. Dean might be one of the most powerful demons he had seen but they didn't have time for his games. "Do you know how I found out about him? The angel you captured let it slip. Apparently your little shit has been on Earth for half a millennium and he is, according to almost all feathered assholes up there, the one who will guide them to brighter future. And believe me when I say that no demon will like it if angels start caring about the human race!"

Dean forced himself not to pay attention to the insult toward his former almost-lover and guided his thoughts to the problem at hand instead. He wasn't sure whether to do it or not. His little angel deserved to be at home again. But if he didn't do anything he would never see him again. On the other hand how would he make Castiel fall in love with him again... he had changed. He was dirty now, corrupted. Maybe if he did it fast, no feelings attached it wouldn't hurt so much, and then he would go back to just watching him from afar. He sighed mentally and nodded.

"When is his birthday?" he asked, even though he knew the answer, even though he had been almost counting the days down.

"After a week."

* * *

Castiel rolled again in his bed. It was past midnight but he just couldn't fall asleep, something was eating him from the insides. He heard the door open and looked up. On the doorway stood Tom one of the oldest priests in the church- rather... large... man but very friendly. Next to him there was a tall man dressed in jeans and a tight black T-shirt, making his muscular chest stand out. The first thing he noticed, however, were his eyes. So green, they could easily put a forest field in spring on shame. They looked so familiar and brought the feeling of home and love. There was something else there, too, something dark, but he just couldn't put his finger around it. The stranger smirked and he looked away, blushing.

"I'm sorry we are here so late, Castiel, but I am desperately in need of a favour," said the older priest and Cas looked at him and smiled as if to say, "It's okay". Tom returned the smile and gestured toward the man standing behind him "This is my grandson, Dean." Dean lifted his arm and mouthed "Hi, cutie." Oblivious to his actions, his grandfather continued, "One of my best friends has recently passed away, may he rest in peace, and I have to at least visit his family. The problem is that I'll be gone for a week and I'm afraid this one here will do something stupid while I'm gone."

"Can't you leave him in someone else's care?" Cas had started to catch on what Tom was asking from him and he wanted to know if he was the last option for the older man. He just felt so uneasy as the handsome man was checking him out without any shame. He wasn't used to that kind of beauty. His whole life he had been surrounded by old chubby men. He hadn't gone to school, because of his father's money he had had private tutors and ever since he remembered he had been living in the church.

"I'm afraid my grandson is quite the playboy. I can only trust you. I hope it wouldn't be a problem for you to stay with him as long as I'm gone, would it? I could even offer you my villa in the mountains."

Cas nodded. He couldn't refuse the older man just because he wasn't used to attention, not after Tom had gone through the trouble to even offer him a place to stay. Besides it wouldn't be that bad, right? It could be even pleasurable, after all he had never spent time with someone near his age.

"Thank you very much, Castiel," Tom brightened after the younger's agreement. "We will leave you now. Rest well, you are leaving tomorrow."

The old man turned to leave, Dean right beside him. Seconds before they had disappeared behind the door the priest's grandson turned around and winked at the former angel, leaving him oblivious to the hurry in the masked Alastair's step.


	3. Day Two

Chapter 2

Day Two

a.k.a

A Deal Sealed With A Kiss

Castiel woke up early. His head was heavy and hurt as much as that time after he had found out his Father didn't care about the future of the planet and had drunk a whole liquid stor... wait, where did that come from? He had never been drunk in his entire life and what business would have his dad with what was happening to Earth? From those questions his head started hurting even more so he tried to banish them from his mind. Instead, he wondered why did he have those headaches every single day! They had started a week ago alongside those weird thoughts. It must be the stress, Cas assured himself, after all he had finally achieved what he had always wanted- he had become a priest.

He sat up and stretched, listening to his bones crack. He had always enjoyed that sound, as weird as it may sound, it was so... human. Then he brought his hands to rub at his eyes and stood up. With eyes still closed he moved to the wardrobe. He had been living here for a year and he already knew where everything was. It wasn't that he stayed in his room too much, just that it wasn't too hard to remember where the bed and the wardrobe- pretty much the only objects in here- were.

But something wasn't right. How did he know that? Well, he tripped on something! And if it hadn't been for the person who had caught him now he would have been lying on the cold floor, meeting face to body with the insects, creeping there. His first instinct was to snuggle in those too familiar chest but when he realized that this was, in fact, the first time he touched them, his eyes snapped open. He tilted his head and gasped when his lips almost connected with the stranger from the last night's.

"What are you doing here?" He stared into clean greens eyes and wrinkled his nose.

"Packed your stuffs." The man nodded toward the backpack, into what Cas had tripped."The road is almost a day long so we must hurry." Despite his words he didn't let go of Castiel's body. On the contrary, he brought the priest's body so close their curves fit perfectly together and their hot breath mingled.

"We are leaving now? But I haven't even eaten!" It wouldn't have been a problem if he had eaten at least twice in the last two days. His stomach growled as if to back him up, but the only thing it did was make the younger man blush. He opened his mouth to apologize but suddenly realized how close he was to the other. Dean's hands, wrapped around his back, were emanating so much warmth that Cas thought he was burning where their skin connected. He was so close to the stranger he could see the freckles around his nose and he smiled sadly in his mind. They made him look adorable but even they weren't able to soften much the hardness of his expression.

Castiel wasn't stupid. Little light-headed, yes, but not an idiot. He was aware what did the man want, the way he looked at him it wasn't hard to guess. But he knew there was something more... or more specifically something less. It was all a game for the older man. As if he wanted to prove to himself that he could do it. That he could steal one of God's lambs. Cas knew that but why didn't it stop him from feeling safe in the arms of the stranger. Why, despite everything, as if that embrace was the only place he belonged?

"I took you your favourite- hamburgers," Dean said and a second after the words left his mouth he wanted to kick himself. Real smooth, idiot! You haven't talked for more than five minutes and you already gave yourself out! And more importantly where did that come from? It wasn't like he remembered most of his life as a hunter anymore, why did he know something so trivial as what Castiel liked to eat when he started turning human? But then again if it wasn't for Cas he would have forgotten everything by now. The ex-angel was his only link to the past, the one that had kept him from going insane in the beginning.

"How did you know?" Cas tilted his head the way that Dean had always thought was adorable. Wait, what? Maybe Castiel wasn't the only one doing his fair share of remembering.

"Lucky guess," Dean shrugged. Before he was never able to lie to the angel but so many years in Hell had changed that fact. It still made him a little sick in his stomach but it was nothing compared to what he had felt when he had been a human.

Castiel, being... Castiel, only nodded and slipped out of Dean's embrace. The demon wanted to growl from the coldness that washed through him. He really had to get used to the coldness of the world. But Cas didn't notice, he grabbed the backpack and the big trench coat from the wardrobe that Dean had forgotten to put in his luggage on purpose and nodded toward the door. "Shall we?"

"Sure, Cas," replied the former hunter and the priest's head shot upward. 'Too much, too soon,' mentally slapped himself Dean. Instead, he asked,

"Don't you like it?"

"N... o." Castiel shook his head, confusion written all over his face. "It's not that. Just someone used to call me like that... as if a lifetime ago."

Dean nodded slightly and led the way to the car. Once inside and with the engine working he dared speaking,

"I think we weren't introduced properly. I'm Dean Winchester. And you, cutie?"

"Castiel Davis," said the former angel and then grimaced. "Winchester? But pastor Tom's last name is Brown"

"Yeah," smiled Dean, he had been waiting for that question and he knew that he was risking everything by doing what he was about to do but he couldn't and wouldn't stand being called with a name that wasn't his. "Brown is my mother's maiden name. She changed it after she married my father."

"I see," nodded Cas as his mind drifted to the other's name. It felt strangely familiar, just like everything in the other man. The former angel, now more that anytime felt like he was forgetting something, like there was that big hole in his memory. Dean, as if sensing;p what was on his mind, changed the topic immediately.

"So you are a priest. Does that mean you are one of those religiously obsessed freaks?" It wasn't the brightest thing to say but it was a way to find out just how deep Castiel was, to test the ground. But what he received shocked the hell out of him.

"I don't think I even believe in Him. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that there is some higher power that is watching over us but..." Cas took a deep breath. What he was telling to this complete stranger could get him killed around here, but he somehow felt he could be sincere. In the end he blurted, "If He was the way the Bible describes Him why did He let the Apocalypse go so far. I understand that it was all to teach us to be better but so many people died. Another variant is that He simply doesn't care but... that would make him such a jerk!"

Dean snorted in agreement. What a misunderstanding! God was a dick! "And you are saying there is no use of Him?"

"No. Even if God didn't help directly the faith in him changed people. They used to be so greedy and egoistical. They stole and murdered. Acted like animals and then blamed God for their misery. But now they are more caring and selfless. It's kind of relaxing to know that you can always find help even in the face of a stranger."

Dean stared at him with wide eyes. Fuck, no!

"You sound like you aren't one of them," he whispered, more to himself than to the other man. It was even worse than he had thought. Cas had started to change far too early. It was just a matter of time before he started remembering. Dean had to start with "the plan" sooner.

"Am I? Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that," smiled nervously Castiel.

Dean nodded absently, his brain working quickly.

"Let's play a game," a few seconds later he blurted, not thinking for a better introduction. He had something in mind but he didn't know how to voice it without raising any suspicion in the former angel. He had never been good at talking... "More like a bet actually. Your mission is to change my behavior, right? What if I help you? Listen to that- if you do exactly what I tell you for a week and if you manage it, I swear I'll change." He glanced at the other man and smiled, when he saw the worried look on Cas' face, gently, reassuringly, something he hadn't thought he would be able to do after so long. "No immoral things, I promise. I won't ask you to have sex with me, to undress nor to do anything from sexual nature with me or while I watch."

He saw Castiel nodding from the corner of his eyes and smirked. 'Right into my arms, little lamb'. "But here is the tricky part. If you ever fall for me I win.. and well, let just say that I'll get my own private angel in Hell."

The ex-angel gulped loudly but still nodded. Just as Dean remembered him- willing to give everything for what he believed was right. It was just too easy, the demon kept thinking that something _had_ to go wrong! "It's a deal then. Now the only thing left is to seal the contract with something special- a kiss"

Castiel's heart thumped wildly in his chest. That deal.. something was wrong with it. Maybe the man really thought he can seduce him for a week. If it had come from somebody else Cas wouldn't have worried and deep down he would have been amused even. But Dean- he wasn't some ordinary guy. Something in him both attracted the priest like a magnet and made him feel like he was walking on shattered glass.

But after all Cas could always lie that he hadn't felt anything. No, he mentally shook his head the moment that thought entered his mind, he would never lie. He knew that much about himself. And apparently the other man knew it as well, which was a mystery all in itself. On a second thought maybe that was a test, maybe God wanted to see if he was ready to be his servant. Plus, he was given a chance to save someone. He nodded and quickly planted a chaste kiss on the demon's cheek.

"No, no, angel," laughed Dean and looked at him, sparks of amusement and mischievous in his eyes. "I meant a real kiss." He parked the car on the side of the road and faced the former angel. He licked his lips and almost smirked when Cas' gaze locked on his tongue. His hand fell on the priest's thigh and squeezed it lightly.

Dean leaned down to kiss him, his gaze never dropping Cas' until the former angel closed his eyes. The demon felt the man still and, knowing that was his chance, he slid a hand around his waist and the other he put below his ass to lift him. Seconds later, Castiel was seated in the demon's lap.

When he felt the rough denim under him Cas gasped and snapped his eyes open. "What do you think you are doing?" he yelped and tried to move but Dean's hand stilled him.

"Come on, it's just a kiss," whispered Dean and kissed him, not even giving him a chance to object. Cas struggled but as soon as he felt the hot tongue wrapping around his own he stopped fighting. He wanted, God knew he did, he wanted to scream and kick but the kiss had made all his muscles freeze. However, what really freaked him out was the calmness that washed through him. Maybe it was because he knew that whatever was going to happen God would always be with him. Surely that warmth in his heart couldn't be mistaken for something else.

Dean's hand slipping from his waist to the insides of his thigh made him jump and break the kiss. He was breathless and flushed, from fear he told himself. He quickly climbed out of the other's lap and almost curled into a ball in his seat.

When Dean felt the warm mass move away his eyes snapped open. The hardness in his pants was so unfamiliar that he squirmed in his seat. He couldn't remember when was the last time he had sported a hard-on. The first years in the pit it hadn't even crossed his mind and then as time passed by, as he became less and less human he simply forgot how to do it. It was kind of scary- how just a kiss was able to arouse him. And what was more terrifying was that he knew it wasn't from the kiss... It was from the memories of him kissing, holding, loving a man that no longer existed.

The rest of the ride was, to say the least, horrible. Castiel was sitting as far as he could from Dean and no matter how many times the demon tried to engage him into a conversation, the priest responded with short answers. In the end Dean gave up, knowing that he had pushed the former angel too far, but also aware that they didn't have time for gentle.

The car stopped, shaking the priest from his dreamland. He had been out of it for hours it seemed- the sky was already pitch black. Cas felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment when he remembered how many times the other man had tried to start a conversation and he had cut him short. It wasn't like he had done it on purpose.

Just, the moment Dean had touched him he had felt electricity running through him, making his whole body shudder. And he had needed that time to think it over, to sort out his feelings. In the end he found the explanation of his reaction- it had been the first time he had been kissed and that probably made him oversensitive. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't expected any of it.

Glad with what he had come up with, he looked around. The building was tall but narrow, white and two-story. The garden in front of it was on two levels. On the first one, the one the door from the house was leading to, were scattered trees, casting shadows on the grass bellow. There were a few benches, some little stumps arranged in a circle and a hammock was hung between two trees. On the edges, rose bushes were set.

The second "floor", the lower one, was if a part of a botanical garden. Colorful flowers were everywhere, the only part free of them was a marble path, running through the garden and connecting the garage area and the stairs for the upper level. The same path he was standing in front of. Dean touched his lower back and Castiel started walking automatically but he couldn't take his eyes off the mesmerizing view.

"It's... beautiful!" the former angel whispered after some time.

'Well, it was created for you,' thought Dean and then smirked when Castiel almost collided with a bench. From then on, the priest kept his eyes only on the path bellow him.

When Cas opened the door of the house a narrow hall revealed in front of him. There were two small wooden closets on either side of it, a pair of white doors following right after them. In front of the two men was a staircase, to which Dean lightly pushed Cas.

"Go upstairs and dump your things in one of the rooms," the demon said but when Castiel moved to do what he had been told, Dean took hold of his hand and squeezed it. The former angel was about to protest but Dean cut him off. "And just so you know, we are sleeping in the same room."

Cas opened his mouth but quickly closed it when he remembered their deal and, after all, what the other man had asked was nothing sexual, he merely wanted them to be roommates. Catiel nodded and rushed upstairs. A smirk appeared on Dean's face the moment the other male was out of sight and it got wider and wider as the seconds passed by and footsteps were heard on the second floor, followed by the sound of a door opening, then another and another.

Moments later Cas came down, flushed and trembling. He was freaking gorgeous and Dean's cock twitched. He knew better than to anger him, the last time it had happened it had ended bloody but the temptation was too big... Fuck! He had to stop doing that. It seemed it was going to be hard anyway, he just couldn't let himself become too emotionally attached.

"There is only one bed in all of the rooms," Castiel said in a loud voice, not even waiting to reach the bottom of the stairs to jump right in front of Dean. "You said nothing sexual!"

"Sleeping in one bed isn't sexual." Dean smirked, slipped an arm around Cas' waist and dragged him close. "Unless you want it to be."

The former angel flushed bright red and stilled for a few second, enjoying that burning sensation the arm around him was causing, but then started tugging forcefully at it. But the other man was holding him with almost inhuman strength.

"Let me go," he hissed when he realized that there was no moving out of that iron grip, not if the green-eyed man didn't want it. Dean just shook his head.

"You'll run away. Come on, let me show you the living room" The demon turned them around, so their shoulders touched but his arms were just where they had been before. He guided Cas to the door on the left and opened it.

It was a rather large room, divided in two parts. In the first there was a comfortable looking sofa, two armchairs around it and a coffee table in front of it. A small TV was seated on a cupboard. They continued walking forward and just around the corner was the second part. It looked like it had come out of a movie. It was smaller than the other part. In the middle there was one big comfy armchair, a small table beside it. On every wall, except for one- there was the fireplace, bookcases, reaching the cellar, were put.

There had to be hundreds of books, Cas thought happily. He was watching everything with wide eyes, almost not believing that he would live in that kind of place for a whole week! He looked up and smiled at the other man.

Suddenly, Dean let him go and moved aside. "Watch some TV while I make the dinner, okay?" he asked and disappeared, not even waiting for the answer. Cas watched his quick retreat with shock. What had he done? One minute the other didn't want to let him go and the next he couldn't stand being in one room with him? After a few minutes he shrugged his shoulders, it was useless to try to understand that man. He sat on the sofa, lifting his legs and curling them beside his body, picked the remote and quickly surfed through the channels. Religion, religion, religion... After the Apocalypse everything, even the television had changed.

Actually, they had to be happy they _had a _television. Most things used for entertainment such as computers were forbidden. Science was, too, frowned upon. It was like they were back in the times when scientist were burnt for witchcraft. He hated it, the fact that people had that strange ability to turn even the purest thing, in this case the faith, in something ugly. He shook his head and forced his mind back on the TV screen. He missed the films, the serials and even the docume... PORN?

His eyes widened as he sat up straight. The two men on the screen were definitely porn actors- they were dressed only in boxers, something strictly forbidden, and they were making out. One of them was rubbing the other's crotch making him moan and Cas- gasp. The moment he realized what he was doing though, the former angel quickly switched the channel. The sound of some old priest explaining how the right diet purified the soul washed through him and he closed his eyes, focusing on the familiar and trying to forget the sinful things he had seen.

"The dinner is ready," said a weirdly-familiar voice and he snapped his eyes open. The door of the living room was open slightly and from the gap between it and the frame Dean's head was poking. "You coming?"

He nodded and rose to his feet. He was wobbling a little but nonetheless he followed the other man, across the corridor to the room right before them. The dining room was nothing out of the ordinary, in fact it was amazingly simple- the only thing there was was a small table suited in the middle of it and just like the living room, behind the corner Cas could see the kitchen- medium sized, quite average but well-appointed.

Dean gestured toward one of the seats and then headed to the kitchen. By the time Cas was seated, the demon was already coming, caring two plates filled with pasta. Delicious aroma filled the air and Castiel's stomach growled. That was weird- this past few months he was eating once every 2-3 days and today he had eaten yet he was still hungry...

Dean placed one plate in front of him and the other on the opposite side of the table. When he heard the evidence of how hungry the other man was he smirked. My, my, what an impatient boy, he thought. That smile back in the living room had caught him ff guard but now he was ready!

"So, watched something interesting on the TV?" he asked. He was hoping his former lover had found the porn and from that bright blush his wish had been granted.

"N-no," stammered Cas and quickly stuffed his mouth with pasta. He used the excuse for a full mouth to collect himself. The man was probably teasing him and he wouldn't give him that pleasure. When he swallowed he said as calmly as he could, "Just the usual religious stuff."

"Oh," smirked Dean. Lie is a sin, my little angel, he thought. "And what was it about?" he expected another stuttered answer but he got quite the opposite- an excitedly told story about a priest faced with an army of demons. He had been just about to ask how did he know the whole story when he had watched it for less than half an hour when Cas made it clear that he had watched that film four times.

"Well, if you like it so much we can watch it together. I suppose it hadn't finished yet?" asked at the end Dean, trying to catch him in a lie.

But Castiel, the sneaky bastard, just shook his head and muttered, "We've been traveling all day and I'm tired." He was about to get up from the table when he froze as if he had remembered something and he glanced at the demon. "You still want to share a room with me?"

For 5 seconds Dean stared at him dumbfounded, he had expected a fight, yelling or... something! Not that quiet resignation. And that was coming from the angel who had believed God was still somewhere out there, when no one else did? Then he nodded and sighed mentally. Maybe it was better that way. And what had he expected- his Castiel was long gone just like him. Those years on Earth had been for that- to teach him how to obey. He stood up and started clearing the table all the while trying not to think about the ache in his heart. It was because he had been denied the pleasure of playing with the angel he told himself over and over.

He washed the dishes and headed upstairs. There were three rooms- all identical- with a big double bed, with bedside tables on each side and a lamp on them, a large wardrobe and a door leading to the balcony. He found the room Castiel had chosen on the second try and one look around the room made his eyes widen.

"What? You thought that I would really share a bed with you?" asked Castiel from his place on the floor. He was lying on a mattress, in the space between the bed and the wardrobe, and was covered with a quilt.

The only answer he got from Dean was an idiotic smile.


	4. Day Three

I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry! I had actually forgotten about that fic when nearly a month ago I received an email in which the site informed me that someone had put this on Story Alert. Truthfully, the first few seconds I just stared and thought- "I have a story named like that?" And then realization hit me and I wanted to crawl under a rock... But, hey, at least this is one long, looong chapter! And I swear I'll never do that again (well, maybe if my muse leave me again but then we'll talk) Anyway, I'll let you read now. Have fun!

Chapter 3

Day Three

a.k.a

Denial And Dreams

_The first thing Castiel noticed was the cold metal beneath him and around his ankles and wrists. The room was pitch dark, he couldn't see anything, even a shadow to help him recognize the place. He heard a distant scream for help but before he could react it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Probably it had been a product of his own imagination. Silence stretched again, so heavy and as if suffocating him. He tried to say something just so his ears would stop ringing but it seemed like the silence swallowed his words._

_Another sound broke the silence, too quiet for Castiel to identify what it was, and he turned towards it, blinking rapidly to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It didn't work and on top of that he, now, couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or open which made him uneasy. It came again. Tap, tap, tap- rhythmical and loud. Castiel knew that sound, it was from footsteps. Someone was coming!_

_"Hello?" he asked and his voice sounded so small and foreign in the stillness of the room._

_Castiel saw a pair of green eyes flash in the darkness, familiar like the sun and the sky, and calmness washed trough his body. There was nothing to worry about because Dean was here and he would never hurt him. Ignoring the tiny voice that told him to be careful, he smiled happily and tugged at his bonds. Not that he didn't trust the other man- he would and had put his life in his hands, he just wanted to be able to touch him, to run his hands across those firm muscles and then trace them with his tongue. To kiss, and bite, and mark._

_Cas caught the sight of a blade and it made him stiffen before he composed himself. Really, he thought, Dean should stop caring weapons everywhere he went, and whispered, "Let me go, I want to touch you."_

_Green eyes turned pitch black, another colour familiar to Castiel but one that didn't make him relax. "Did I allow you to speak, you scum?" was hissed in his face and seconds later he felt the first of many blows to come. He cried, more in surprise than pain. Being a warrior of God they had taught him how to swallow the physical pain... but no one had told him how to ease the one in his heart._

Castiel woke up with a start, sweating yet cold and shivering. He tried to remember his dream, even though he knew that there was no use, and like every morning in nearly a month he got only darkness. But that was okay because deep down he knew that he didn't want to remember.

The former angel looked around tentatively as if half-expecting Dean to pop out from nowhere and jump him. Although that was something Cas was specializi... What was that?He shook his head as if to clear it from all those random and crazy thoughts that appeared from nowhere and instead went to make Dean's bed. He idly noted that the sheets were far too tangled and the mattress- too cold and his heart panged at the realization. He didn't want Dean to be restless, the man _needed_ to relax. Cas had seen the tiredness in those far-too-old-for-his-age eyes and as a good servant of God he was nearly obligated to be concerned. He missed the voice that told him it was a bit more than that.

Half an hour later, after he had showered, prayed and changed his pajamas with soft brown pants and a sweeter, he headed toward the kitchen. As soon as he opened the door, the sweet aroma of freshly cooked pancakes hit him and he gulped down. He really had to watch what he ate, he didn't want to return to the church looking like the only thing he had done that week had been eating. Cas looked around, searching for Dean, and when he saw him popping out of the kitchen he jumped in surprise and a small whimper broke from his lips.

He took a little step backward, eyes fixed on Dean's face. The skin looked like molten wax, deep wrinkles crossing the face and making everything except the pitch black eyes indefinable.

"What's wrong?" asked Dean, voice lacking the usual cockiness and full with concern. It lessened Cas panic and the former angel shook his head, then rubbed his eyes and just like that the vision was gone- the only thing marring Dean's sun-kissed skin now were his freckles and forest green eyes were starring at him.

"I'm just sleepy, that's all," the priest murmured and shook his head again. "When I first saw you I could have sworn there was something weird with your face"

He settled on his chair and thanked Him for the food but his mind was still on what he'd seen. Surely, it had been just a play of his mind but that wasn't the first time it had happened. The other day, with father Tom it had been the same, only that time it had been just for a second. Everyone had told him that his imagination would cause him troubles but no one had meant it that way, he was sure. Maybe he was going mad...? Too busy with his thoughts he missed the horrified look that Dean send his way.

Dean gulped. If he had doubted it before, now he was sure. Castiel, the man he had once loved, was turning into an angel. And pretty fast, too. He watched as the other man ate and had to clench his fist a few times to stop himself from leaning forward and licking the small drops of strawberry syrup that sometimes clung to the priest's full lips. But he couldn't. Seducing him was like approaching a wild animal- he had to be careful and gentle and attack him when he least expected it.

Or not. They had been separated for 500 years, maybe, just maybe Cas didn't need taming but a little push in the right direction. He had to test that theory and he knew the perfect way to do so.

"I know what we're going to do later," he proclaimed, dark excitement twinkling in his eyes.

Castiel cast him a side-way glance and his insides twisted when he saw the smirk playing on his lips. That made him remember- he wasn't here on a vacation with a friend, he was here on a mission. He had to save the corrupted soul of a man, who, the Lord only knew why, wanted to get him in his bed. Cas gulped down the piece of pancake which all of a sudden was tasteless and dry and asked tentatively, "And what is that?"

"You'll see. Now hurry up with your breakfast." If possible the other's smirk widened.

After that Cas' appetite vanished. It was as if his stomach had tied itself in a knot and simply refused to take anymore food inside. It took the young priest a total of five tries before he admitted defeat, put his fork down and glanced at Dean, indicating that he was ready.

"To the living room then," exclaimed the demon and Cas found out that a voice could be simultaneously terrifying and cheerful.

Once in the living room, Dean settled on the sofa and pulled Castiel on his lap. The former angel was about to protest before he remembered- he had to do everything non-sexual the other wanted and sitting on him wasn't something immoral. He waited silently as Dean grabbed the remote control and pushed the power button. The screen lit and seconds later Castiel received his question as to why the other man had been smirking so darkly.

There were two men on the screen, wrapped around each other. They were kissing, roughly and all saliva and teeth while undressing themselves. One of them had died red hair and sparkling green eyes and the other was blond with dark blue, almost violet, eyes. Both of them were muscular and sported huge erection, which made Cas squirm uncomfortably when he saw them but he immediately stopped when he heard a soft moan fall from the man bellow him.

The next hour they spend like that- on the sofa, eyes glued to the TV- one pair shining with lust and the other- with determination. It was time for Dean to attack. He toyed a little with the idea to slow down the time but that would take too much energy and he had to saviour it. But then he could just play with the clock hanging behind them? No, it was too risky. How was hr going to explain it if Cas caught him?

Two things happened at once- the black haired man on the screen (the previous movie had long since finished) pushed his erection inside his partner and Cas realized that something equally hard was pushing his cheeks apart and going far too deeper than he was comfortable with. The former angel, who until now had been staying completely still and watching obediently, jumped and cried out, "What do you think you are doing!?"

"You don't like it?" It was said so innocently and if Cas didn't know any better he would have said that the other man truly didn't know he was doing something wrong. But nothing was a tad innocent about the other man and that was proven by his next actions. Dean slid his hands across Castiel stomach and then dipped it down to grasp the other's... soft cock. Huh? No reaction, whatsoever, after _an hour_ of porn? What had happened for those 500 years they had been apart? Had the former angel turned asexual? Dean's mind was suddenly filled with previously forgotten memories of their last day together. Cas had been so responsive to everything he did to him, teasing, kissing and touching in return. Those thoughts caused his cock to twitch, which made the man on top of him fidget again.

"You don't like it?" Dean asked again but this time his voice sounded confused and sincere. He withdrew his hand, just in time because, although Cas wouldn't have admit it even if his life depended on it, the priest was starting to respond to the touch.

"They show something that is meant to be private and turn an intimate act into something bestial and dirty. Therefore, no, I do not like it!"

Dean opened his mouth to reply something, though even he wasn't sure what exactly, but the ringing of the doorbell stopped him. Glad to use it as an excuse, Castiel immediately jumped off the demon's lap and headed toward the front door. Dean followed him, stealthily adjusting his pants and cursing whoever had dared to interrupt them.

It turned out to be a man in his late twenties, tall and muscular but not in the intimidating, all-I-drink-is-stereoids way. His wavy blond hair was brushing against his broad shoulders, his eyes shone with warmness and Dean already hated him.

"Hello, I'm Ryan," the stranger grinned, showing his perfectly white teeth, and thrust a covered baking dish in Cas' hands. "This is from my wife to welcome you in the neighbourhood. Funny, though, we always thought this house is unnoc..."

"Is that a pie?" cut him out Dean before he could say something out of place. The last thing he needed was for Castiel to get suspicious.

"Yeah," mumbled the former angel after peaking behind the material covering it."And apple, on top of it, your favourite. Thank you, Ryan. I'm Castiel and this is Dean, by the way."

Castiel smiled politely at the man who grinned in return. Dean was about to growl and slam the door in his face when his mind picked up what the priest had said and a fond smile lit up on his face, maybe the first true one in half a millennium.

"Nice to meet you. Are you two a couple?" Ryan's voice was light and teasing as if he didn't realize what he was accusing them of. As if what he was suggesting wasn't a sin punished with death.

"No, just friends on a vacation," answered Castiel, unaware that he'd cut short a rather rude and colourful response from Dean." Excuse me, I'll go put this in the fridge."

The other men nodded and watched his retreat. As soon as the door of the kitchen closed behind him, Dean turned toward the intruder on his threshold, a feral look on his face. He didn't like that man- he was too polite, too easy going, too... too everything! And the fact that he looked at Cas like _that_, or so it looked to Dean, had nothing to do with it. Because he wasn't jealous, he couldn't be. Even if there had been some leftover feelings toward Cas they wouldn't work because his angel was different... or was he? He shook himself, he could dwell on that thought later, now he had to chase away that Ryan.

"Get the hell out of here and don't ever look back."

"What happened to that smile and the "only friends" thing," Ryan cocked his head and stared confusedly at the practically growling man.

"Flew out of the window just like you would if you step inside."

Maybe it's from the light but Ryan could swear his new neighbour's eyes flashed dark. But illusion or not it still made his limbs freeze and his subconscious- scream 'Danger!'

"Do you want to come in?" the low, polite voice of Castiel broke into his fear fogged mind and he scratched his neck, making a point of avoiding eye-contact with both of the other men. In the end his self-preserving instincts won and he mumbled,

"No. I came here only to say hi. Well, goodbye."

He turned around and left with a fast step. Cas and Dean shared a look, the later faking innocence.

"So, what do you want to do?" the demon broke the silence first, glancing expectantly at his companion.

"I don't know. I thought you were making the rules?"

Dean thought for a second what would be the smartest move. Pushing him hadn't worked so he had to go back to his previous tactics, charming him nice and slowly. He wasn't sure it would work now, after the whole fiasco in the living room. But he had to hope- it was his only way to win this thing. Maybe they could take a walk around the village, surely being around people would make Cas relax and open up.

As soon as he had shared his idea he realized this hadn't been the right thing to do. A dark cloud passed through Cas' face and suddenly Dean remembered that the other hadn't liked crowds or being around people in general before. He had always been a little awkward and uneasy in those kind of situations. But what bothered him the most was that he cared too much whether the former angel liked his decision. And, yes, he knew that keeping Cas content was a part of his mission because a happy and relaxed priest was more likely to fall in love with him than a scared and disgusted one but deep down he felt it was more.

But, of course, he was Dean Winchester and some things in him hadn't changed, like for example his true gift to ignore "chick-flick" thoughts and to act like a complete jerk. He pulled out the you-have-to-follow-my-wishes card and, completely ignoring the scared expression on Cas' face or the pang in his heart that it caused, almost ordered the priest to get ready for going out. Because he was a demon and demons didn't seek approval from anyone, even their past almost-lovers.

The moment they had stepped out of the house, Dean realized he had made a big, no, make that a terrible, mistake. Cas had immediately stiffened beside him and for the few meters they had walked he had slowed his steps so he could walk behind Dean and not next to him twice. On the third time, Dean knew that he had to do something, he had to calm down Castiel or he would have to pay through his nose for his little whim. He stopped and waited until Cas and him were shoulder to shoulder before he gripped the other's hand in his. The street was deserted and no one saw them but the demon was aware that Castiel knew it was a matter of minutes before they were on the main street.

"Please, let me go," Cas whimpered as he tried to tug his hand out of the older man's gasp. He fucking whimpered! When just a day ago he had been hissing those words. But now, being outside, it made him an entirely different person- all distant and nervous.

"I will, just calm down," Dean's voice was quiet but confident, the same one he had used on frightened children when he had been a hunter. He gripped Cas' hand in both of his and turned him toward himself."Listen to me. Take a deep breath." He smiled inwardly when he saw the former angel doing as he'd been told."That's it. Now, there is nothing wrong with us taking a walk around the town, okay?"

"You don't get it! Behind closed doors you can do whatever you want but outside... We could be killed just for holding hands! I'm worried that..." you can get hurt. He never said it, he didn't even remember thinking it after a few seconds. It was like one of those thoughts you forget in a blink of an eye if something interrupted it. But now that wasn't the case. The truth was that Cas' subconscious had started to recognize Dean and the first thing that had been awaken had been protectiveness, just like all those decades ago that had been his first emotion toward the hunter. Alas, the priest's mind was slower and a lot of time had to pass before it had caught up with it.

Dean dropped Cas' hands, the only thing on his mind being the fact that the former angel was scared and he could do something to ease him. He didn't know how much of what Castiel had said was true, he hadn't been in this age a lot. He was a demon, after all, and which self-respecting Devil's spawn would come to the only era when the human kind was overly religious and united. It would pass of course- that post-Apocalyptic dizziness- and they would return to their sinful ways. Dean knew that, he had seen it. But for now? He didn't know anything and he mentally cursed himself for not researching. Where was that geeky boy when you needed him?

Sam... he hadn't thought of him for years! When he had first become what he was now he didn't even let himself think of his brother because every time he remembered that goofy smile and those dimples or the annoyed frown guilt clasped his heart. He wasn't worthy to even think of Sam, of an angel. Literally, of course. To call your brother an angel and mean it in any other way was just wrong.

He knew Sam was an angel. After he had gained some rank he had searched every nook and corner of Hell for Sam, but he hadn't been there. Later on, he had learnt that his little brother had been turned into an angel and given to Michael to be his apprentice.

"Dean?" Cas' tentative voice broke him from his musings.

"Yeah, sorry for spacing out. There is nothing to be afraid of, I'll take care of you. Now let's go." Completely ignoring the little voice that told him he really meant it, Dean pressed a hand on the small of Castiel's back and urged him to keep walking.

Everything was fine, they were walking so close their shoulders were almost touching. However, the moment they stepped foot on the main street and people surrounded them, Castiel oh so subtly put an arm distance between them. But at least he wasn't walking behind or ahead of him, pretending they were strangers and Dean considered it an improvement.

They continued walking in perfect silence, both of them deep in thoughts. Castiel was enjoying the sight of the valley that was revealed from the side of the road. An almost transparent fog was covering gently the ground that looked like an old blanket torn and sown too many times. It was simply beautiful and it made him relax and dull the sound of the people surrounding him. Dean's thoughts, however, were focused on something more earthly and close. Something that had caught his eye in their 20 minutes walk.

"Don't you find it strange that we've been walking so much and we've passed three churches and no schools at all?" he voiced his concern and he watched with his peripheral vision his companion's reaction. Cas' eyes shot toward him and a small smile played on his lips.

"Yes, this is one of the side effects of having too much fate. People now believe that all they need to do is be righteous and everything they want will be served to them on a silver plate. They no longer feel the need to educate themselves and to progress."

"But that's wrong," Dean nodded, catching the other's train of thoughts.

"Of course, a life without any progress is no life at all, it's like someone had hit the pause button on the planet. People had forgotten that no matter how fertile the ground is, nothing will grow there if you don't plant a seed."

"You know, Castiel, you are way more clever than you look."

"Thank you." The former angel tilted his head, a confused expression on his face. "Although, there is a case in which you are actually insulting me."

Dean laughed. "I'm just saying that for a man your age and a priest on top of everything you have a unique and refreshing view of the world."

"Thank you," Cas mumbled and ducked his head, trying to hide his blush. He had always been told he had different a view of the world but it'd never been a compliment. All those people who pointed it out were sure it was the Satan's curse and it was something a priest shouldn't have. It was almost like they believed that if you were thinking you were no good.

They reached a small park and decided to sit on one of the benches there with both of them being already tired. It was beautiful, Cas decided, not like the one in Dean's grandfather's house but it was still nice. It was constructed as a more or less a cross, with a marvelous statue of an angel where the two paths should have been crossing but instead were bending and forming a circle around it. The statue itself was surrounded by a pond in which golden fishes were swimming. Around the paths colourful flowers were planted.

There Castiel and Dean spend their time, sitting on a bench around the pond and talking. Well, mostly Castiel talked- about his childhood and his training as a servant of God. Once or twice he tried to pull some details about Dean's life from him, too, but the man quickly changed the subject. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice when it turned noon and realized they had lost track of time when an hour later Castiel's stomach growled, interrupting a story about him falling into the mud as a kid .

"Come on, we should find somewhere to eat," Dean said as he stood up. He offered his hand to Cas, who took it without a second thought even though he felt so stupid afterwards. It wasn't like he needed help in getting up! He was about to jokingly point that out to Dean (when had they gotten so close to each other that he didn't find it strange to joke with him?) when he realized that the other man wasn't paying him any attention at all. His head was turned toward a couple that had passed them a few seconds ago and, now when the priest thought about it, had looked at them with strangely. He waited patiently for Dean to look at him and when he finally did Cas could swear that for a second his eyes were completely dark.

"Let's go and you could finish your story on our way." Dean's voice was falsely sweet and Cas guessed he was still mad at that couple.

They walked around as Castiel continued talking, unconsciously letting the other man decide where they were going to have lunch.

"Here we are," suddenly said Dean and pointed at a little restaurant a couple of feet away from them. It was an old, beige building with large windows that revealed the almost empty insides and pots with flowers hanging from the walls.

The couple entered the restaurant and Dean guided them toward a table in the far corner of it, away from prying eyes. They settled down, Cas immediately relaxing because of the calming atmosphere and the realization that no one seemed to pay them mind. A waiter came soon after to take their order and shot them a suspicious look but it completely disappeared the moment his eyes met Dean's. The demon just had to show him his real self and the poor man was cowering in fear. That fear had wormed its way in human's subconscious when they had been first created. They didn't even realize why they were scared, blaming the lights for the surreal sight, but deep inside they knew they were in mortal danger.

This was the last person to bother them. Not when they were eating, the only sound coming from the table being the soft moaning as they enjoyed their food and not even when they were walking, or more likely creeping, down the street, so full they thought they would burst. At least in Dean's case. Cas was a servant of God and knew that gluttony is a sin. No, he had a completely different reason to sway. When they had left the restaurant he'd suddenly felt so ill and weak, he'd felt like he couldn't stand on his feet. He managed to hold himself until they reached the insides of the house but once in that park the priest nearly collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Dean was close enough to catch him.

"Are you okay?" the demon asked unusually tender as he straightened the other man but still held him close.

"Yeah, I'm just not used to such long walks, I guess. My body feels so weak," the former angel mumbled and tried to get out of Dean's hold but the demon was having none of it.

"Hold tight," was the only warning Cas got before Dean lifted him in his arms, bridal style. He tried to make the green-eyed man let him down and secretly he was glad that he refused because deep down he knew that he wouldn't be able to take a step on his own.

What he _didn't_ know, however, was that Dean, too, was aware of that. He knew that Castiel's body was like a sake of potatoes right now and he had to do something to hide it was because his 21th birthday was coming and his body was slowly stopping to function. Pretty soon his appetite would disappear, even though Dean held hopes that it wouldn't be so soon seeing as how much the former angel ate, and then the sickness that wouldn't let him get out of bed would follow. It had been that way every time, Alastair himself had told him, it was inevitable. Then why did the single thought of seeing Castiel suffer made his heart clench painfully in his chest?

Cas let himself be held like that, even if he was a little tense the whole time. It wasn't that he believed the man would drop him, it was just too intimate for his taste. And even if he'd tried to snuggle (and he had _not_) there was something stopping him from moving his body. The former angel wrote it off as tiredness but deep down he knew better.

"Here you go," Dean chuckled as he placed the priest on the bed. Then he teased," Now, do you want me to tuck you in and sing you a lullaby?"

"No, but I won't refuse a glass of water," answered Cas with a little smile as he made himself comfortable on the bed, still faintly smelling of Dean.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

After he gave the former angel a glass of water and actually tucked him in, despite his protests, Dean was left to wonder what to do. He had a few hours judging by how tired Cas'd been. The demon was about to go down in the living room and spend some quality time with the TV and his right hand, after all some habits stayed the same no matter how many years had passed. But then he felt a tug in his chest which he immediately recognized as Alastair's way of telling him that he needed to talk to him. The other demon probably wanted him to use the goblet, neatly hidden in the kitchen, but there was nothing to kill, except, of course, Castiel but that thought never crossed his mind.

"Oh, hello, Dean-o," Alastair exclaimed, as soon as Dean stepped inside his office, in his annoyingly sweet voice, opening his arms as if urging the other demon to leap in them. The younger only snorted.

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see how is it going. From here it seemed like you were getting attached to your asset and I decided to warn you before it was too late. You know I can just kill the little scum with wings and see what happens if you screw up, right?" the voice was still dripping sweet but Alastair's eyes were cold and showed that he wouldn't hesitate in getting his apprentice in the right track by force if it was needed.

"Don't push me, Alastair," he growled, taking a threatening step toward the other.

"Ah, don't you remember when you used to call me Master. You were so cute, all writhing in blood and moaning in p..."

"I'll be leaving then," Dean snapped and disappeared.

A second later he found himself outside the house. He had taken his body with him in Hell, he hadn't known how much earth hours he would be gone and he really didn't want to freak Castiel out by presenting him his lifeless corpse. Dean made a simple calculation and he realized that give or take 3 hours had passed since he had left. He cursed inwardly, Cas would be awake by now and there was no way he could pass as having been asleep in one of the vacant rooms because 1) Cas most definitely had already checked the rooms and 2) he was outside the house and not _inside_. He felt trapped.

He opened the little red door that stood alongside the one designed for a car and was never locked, entered the house and walked down the marble path as quickly and silently as he could. He had just grabbed the doorknob when a low cough made him spin around so fast he felt dizzy. Immediately, he saw Castiel lying on the hammock, a book resting beside him and his face showing curiosity and concern.

"Where were you?" the former angel asked, lifting himself a little and thus causing the hammock to sway slightly, threateningly. Dean, who was next to him in a matter of seconds, pushed him back slightly. For all he knew, if Cas tried to stand up the hammock would turn and he would find himself way closer to the ground than he should have been.

"Just walking around." He quickly went through his memories and grinned when he found something that would do. "I went to the forest. I thought we might have a picnic there or something." That was actually a pretty good idea, now when he thought about it. Chicks liked those stuff, right? Not that Cas was a chick but he had never tried to woo another man so he had to use what he knew about women. All of a sudden he was anticipating the other's answer and hoping he would say yes. But not because he wanted to have a picnic with the former angel... not at all! He just wanted this to end already!

"That sounds great." Cas smiled slightly and glanced toward his book. He didn't want to appear rude but he really wanted to continue reading it.

Dean followed his eyes and lifted the red book."Oh 'The Da Vinci Code'? Interesting choice," he teased lightly. It was one of those forbidden books because it used the Bible outside the cannon.

"Yes, I wanted to find something to read and I seemed to be drawn to that one. And the more I read it the more familiar it feels." It had been gnawing at him since he started reading it and his subconscious had picked his former habit- when you don't know something ask Dean. Even if he is grumpy, he knows a lot of things about humanity.

"Hm," was Dean's only answer. As far as he knew, Cas had never been reborn near this time, because it was too much of a risk- he could meet one of the Winchesters or even himself. The future then? After the Apocalypse was far behind them people quickly returned to their ways so it was possible.

"I was meaning to ask you," Cas piped up, breaking Dean out of his thoughts, "Why does a priest have a house with porn on the television and a bunch of forbidden books in his library?"

"It is only formally my grandfather's, he hadn't come here for years," Dean explained, he had prepared himself for such a question. Cas nodded and glanced again at his book, which the demon had placed next to him earlier.

"You stay here and read and I'll fix some diner, okay?" asked Dean, having caught the longing look, and when the priest nodded he turned around and quickly went to the house.

He rummaged the fridge and the cupboards, trying to figure out what to cook. He barely remembered how to make_ anything _except of pasta and they couldn't eat it everyday. It had been a sheer miracle that this morning when he had walked in the kitchen he had remembered all of a sudden how to make pancakes. Well, not really that surprising because when he was a kid, which was the only time he had cooked for himself and his brother, this had been Sammy's second favourite breakfast, the first being the last bowl of cereal, of course.

Sam had also liked tuna casserole. It had been one of his favourite dishes but because the ingredients cost a lot they couldn't have it frequently. The ingredients... Dean remembered them and when he forced himself to think he was able to recall how to do it, too. He opened the drawer above the stove where he had spotted the pasta noodles, put some water in a pot and added them. He sauted the onions and the celery in the saucepan and then added the mushroom soup and the can of tuna he had found in the fridge, some water, peas and black pepper. He let it cook, stirring it from time to time and when he was ready he poured it inside of a casserole alongside the pasta. Now, he only had to wait 30 minutes.

Dean knew some lower demon would turn up in the house at night and wash the dishes so he didn't find the need to do its job. So left with nothing to do, he decided to see what Cas was doing. He walked toward the window and glanced at the former angel. Cas was lying on his side, reading, his forehead wrinkled in concentration, his head tilted to a side. A lone sun-ray had sneaked between the tree's leaves and was now gently stroking the priest's cheek. Cas, so engrossed in his book, didn't even notice it. The only thing that was missing were warbling birds around Cas' head and it would have been the perfect scene from a fairy tail.

As if sensing that he was being watched, Cas lifted his head and looked around and Dean quickly hid behind the curtains. The moment he did that he realized how stupid and creepy he was acting, not to mention how ridiculously love-stuck he might have looked from an outsider's point of view. The demon quickly walked away from the window and started making the portions, all the while reminding himself that he did _not_ care what his former almost-lover was doing.

When he had served their food and a glass of wine for both of them Dean called the priest, who immediately sensed that something was off and came as soon as he could. They ate in silence, with Cas trying to start a conversation a few times but stopping when Dean answered him half-heartedly and with one word. The former angel also caught him staring out of the window a few times but he didn't know what to make of that. It kinda hurt, being ignored like that and maybe he had showed it because the moment Dean glanced at him their conversation turned into a lot more lively one even if a little forced by the green-eyed man.

When they finished dinner, Dean and Cas moved to the living room. Cas curled on the sofa and started reading, his book on top of his legs that were pressed against his chest. Dean settled next to him and surfed through the channels. Ten minutes later he wanted to scream or throw up, or both. There was nothing except of religion and porn. Religion he wouldn't have watched even if he wasn't a demon, he had dignity after all, and porn... well, let's just say that there was no use of porn if he knew that he would be spending the night in his own bed, alone. He glanced at Cas who looked up and smiled faintly at him when he felt his gaze.

Dean sighed and turned toward the TV. No, there was no way he was watching anything that involved Jesus, prays, heaven or any other bullshit. Maybe he could read a book. The demon went to the library and after he looked around he discovered a pile of DVDs with action films. _Real_ action films! He took a note to himself to ask for the names of the demons who had prepared the house. He could reward them by not killing them the next time he saw them.

Dean walked back, his full lips stretched into a smile, and plopped on the sofa after putting the disk in the DVD, which was yet another thing he should thank those demons for. Two hours later he switched off the TV, stretched his muscles and yawned. He glanced at his side where Cas was softly snoring, his head resting on top of his legs and his book- nowhere in sight. He hadn't expected him to be knocked out so easily but maybe the wine had played some part in this, relaxed him a bit.

He tried to wake him up but it proved to be nearly impossible and after all he received from his shakes were a few louder snorts Dean gathered the former angel in his hands and headed for their bedroom. Once there, he gently placed Cas on his own bed and covered him. He thought about dressing Cas in his pajamas but he just knew that the former angel would throw a fit next thing tomorrow if he did such a thing so he changed only his own clothes and then laid down on the mattress the other had sneaked in the room yesterday. It proved to be comfortable, not like the bed but it wasn't like sleeping on the floor, either, and Dean thought that they could take turns using it. It simply didn't seem right to make Cas sleep on it every night.

The last thing that crossed his mind as he was falling asleep was how much his pillow smelt of Cas.


	5. Day Four

**A/N **I'm officially the worst author ever. Every time I promise to myself that the next time I won't take so long and every single time something steals my attention and before I notice 5 months have passed... I can only promise you that I'd try not to delay with the next chapter.

Chapter 4

Day Four

a.k.a.

Memories And Bad Cooking

_A car flew past him at rapid speed, filling his lungs with toxic gasses, and he glared at it with tear-filled eyes before he returned to his book. Another car passed him, but this time he paid it no mind as he continued reading his book. Honestly, it shouldn't have bothered him that much. It was 2246- more than two centuries after the Apocalypse almost happened and a century after the post-Apocalyptic fever, which people had started to call The Second Dark Age, had finally died off. Now people were uncontrollable, looking just like a child whose strict parents had gone out for the weekend. They did whatever they want, whenever they wanted with whoever they wanted._

_Not him though. He was far more interested in books than whoring himself or gambling or shopping, which for his time was considered abnormal and weird. But no matter how much his moms urged him to get himself a hot girl or a boy... or both, he just couldn't. There was no one with whom he felt a connection. All of them were too self-centered, too selfish, just too much._

_Not that he looked down on them, either. He was a sinner, in his own way. What did that mean he couldn't say, but he just knew that there was something deep inside him- so dark and twisted that even those people would run away if they could see it._

_He shook his head, the noise from the street long since forgotten and replaced by dreary thoughts. His book hanged limply from his hands. It was a very interesting book, he'd searched for it for years- the lost book of Dan Brown "The Da Vinchi Code"- a bestseller in its time but discarded and proclaimed evil like every other book in a century when people weren't allowed to read anything related to the Bible and outside the cannon. A priest, which in itself was a really strange sight- though Cas had the gnawing feeling that it was just a costume because of the what seemed like a mask of a disfigured face he was wearing, had given it to him. Well, more than thrust it in his hands and ran off but he wasn't about to complain._

_Which was why he was so addicted to it that he had been reading it while walking, a skill he had mastered over the years, toward his mothers' house where he was going to celebrate his 21st birthday. Sad, really, how the only people who would be with him on such a day were his parents._

_"No!" he scolded himself and shook his head, he wasn't thinking about that! He was lucky to have parents like them, so caring and loving. Yes, he was lucky. Cas repeated it again if only to chase the horrible thoughts about how his mothers were sinful and filthy creatures._

_The man returned to his book once again. Everything turned peaceful, the sounds and the thoughts unrelated to the book disappeared, the planet was spinning the right way... for one paragraph. Then, his body collided with something hard and he flew backward. He started waving his hands wildly, the book long since fallen from his numb fingers, as he tried to hold onto something. The moment his fingers closed over something he pulled at it like a drowning man- a stick. It helped, he swayed a little but still managed to straighten himself. Only then did he look up and he was sure that he was going to fall again._

_Not that the man before him was anything special... and even if he was Castiel wasn't someone to notice beauty. Yes, the man had something in him, something raw and primary, but his eyes were what caught Castiel's attention. Not even their colour, earthly brown, but the look in them- feral, but shy, knowing yet so confused, vulnerable and simultaneously guarded. It was such a contradictory gaze that he couldn't stop staring. It was like he was hypnotized and even when the stranger bent down to retrieve his book, his trance wasn't broken and his eyes were left glued to the air above the other man's muscular body._

_When he felt something being pushed in his hands he partly snapped out of his daze, enough to force himself to look down toward the book the stranger was offering him. Castiel took it mechanically as his numb mind wondered why did the man give it to him._

_He looked up once again and bright hazel eyes met even brighter brown and a shudder ran down Cas' spine. The man mildly panicked. Could it be that feeling that coursed through him the same one everyone was talking about? The one that had brought down empires and had crushed people, the one he had never felt and hadn't planned to feel? His fear-soaked train of thoughts was interrupted by the stranger's „See you" followed by his abrupt leaving. Castiel's mind needed a moment to comprehend his words, but in the end those seconds were just a few seconds too much. When he finally took off after the stranger and looked around the corner where the other man had disappeared, he didn't find a trace of the stranger. It was like the ground had swallowed him._

_Pity, Cas had wanted to invite him to his birthday party. He shook his head and went back to his book. He wanted to finish it before his 21st birthday but he had more than a hundred pages to go. Well, it wasn't like the world was going to end in 3 days, what was the big rush, anyway._

Castiel stirred slightly in his bed, trying to hide from that hideous sun-ray that had decided to wake him up in the most brutal way. But the sun-ray didn't disappear and even seemed to follow him so he lifted himself with a groan. His eyes were heavy with sleep, he hid a yawn with his palm, as he looked around the room. The first and most obvious thing he noticed was that Dean had given him the bed and it brought a tiny hint of a smile on his face. Honestly, he was starting to suspect that the man had a split personality. Like yesterday for example- one minute he was almost raping him on the couch and the next- trying to calm him down in that adora...

Cas cleared his throat and tried to preoccupy his mind with something. For the hundredth time, he admitted to himself that Dean was handsome and kind, if he tried to be, but he just wasn't his type. Even if he ignored the fact that he was a man, and that was something that scarily was starting to bother him even less, he was too weird- either too sweet, forcibly sweet, or too cruel. Yesterday had been good, the second part at least, Dean had made him forget completely that his mission was to save his soul- for a while it had flown out of his head that there was something wrong with the soul of the other man.

And then this- he had given him the bed. Why did he feel like he shouldn't relax and has to patiently wait for the other shoe to drop?

Cas hopped out of the bed and headed toward the bathroom- today he decided that he was only going to brush his teeth, not shower- he liked the scent that had soaked in his skin even if he couldn't quite place it, and then come back to make the bed, but something was in his way. Or rather someone. Dean was on the mattress, sleeping like a baby- on his side and half-curled into a ball with his fists clutching the blanked and the tiniest smile on his face. That smile, if only bigger, was mirrored by Cas.

He shook his head when he realized that he'd been staring at Dean, but could he really help it, the other man just looked so innocent and happy in his sleep, and tiptoed out of the room. His plans had changed- he could no longer return to the bedroom from fear of waking up Dean and had to leave his bed messy, as much as it bothered him. Castiel walked in the bathroom and, taking his toothbrush with one hand, he switched on the cold water, but not a drop fell out. He stared at it dumbfounded before he tried with the hot. When it didn't work either he sighed and put down his toothbrush. He had to talk with Dean for that lack of water when the man woke up.

He went down the kitchen with the intention to cook some breakfast. Up until now Dean had been the only one to prepare their meals and, although he wasn't very skilled, Castiel wanted to return the favor. He opened the fridge, his jaw dropping when he laid eyes on the numerous kinds of food. After further investigation he realized there were no vegetables, but it was okay for now because even if there were he had no water to clean them with. He took out a few eggs and bacon and prepared to make the breakfast of his life.

After half an hour, lots of tries and, not that the priest would admit it, a few cuss-words that almost made it past his lips his breakfast was... ready. More like passable, but he was happy nonetheless. Cas served the plates and the suitable table-ware and was just searching the cupboards for glasses when he came across a gilded goblet. Slowly, more because it was heavy than to keep the red liquid inside it from spilling, he got it out. It was the typical stoup people had used before half a millennium and in a hundred- two hundred years, not now, no one would care now, it would cost a fortune. But he was interested in the liquid inside it- bloody red and looking so sticky. Cas was about to touch it out of curiosity and something else that he couldn't place, when a loud gasp made him look up and almost drop the goblet.

„Put that down!" commanded Dean in a cold voice, but only the horror in his eyes gave him away. He rushed toward Castiel and took the goblet away from his fingers."It's a family relic."

Cas nodded confused, before saying,"I'm sorry, I didn't know. But what is that thing inside it?"

Disbelief, horror then rage played on the demon's face as he looked at the insides of the goblet.

„N-nothing. I haven't seen this in a long time anyway, maybe someone had thought it would be funny to fill it with wine," answered Dean, his hands feverish in getting the thing back in the cupboard. If Castiel thought his voice was too husky he didn't comment on it.

After Dean was sure he had hidden away the source of his worry, he turned around and his eyes lit up when he saw an opportunity to change the topic.

„Great, you've cooked us some breakfast," the demon said in an overly sweet voice, but again as if Castiel didn't notice.

„Yeah, too bad I spent too many eggs till I got it right."

Dean smiled with sympathy, glad that Cas had taken the bait, and settled on his chair. The corners of his mouth lifted a few millimeters when his eyes fell on the slightly burnt eggs and brown bacon neatly arranged on his plate. It had been centuries since someone had cooked for him and his heart warmed at the sight.

Cas placed a cup of orange juice in front of him with the words, „It is good for you in the morning," and sat on the chair opposite his. They started eating and as much as Dean tried, not that he spent a lot of energy on it, he couldn't shake off the warmth that had spread over his chest.

„I'm going to the shop after we finish here. We have no vegetables and the pasta you insist on putting in everything is nearing completion." Castiel broke the silence with a teasing smile.

Dean's eyes shot up, shock and something that suspiciously looked like happiness in them, before he shrugged and returned to his breakfast, in an attempt to hide his smile. Until now he had thought he would have to drag the other's kicking and screaming form out of the house.

„Sure, I'll come with you," the demon replied after a while.

„I was thinking more about me going to the shop and you staying here," tentatively said Cas. He had just realized that with one word the other man could stop him from going out and that made him feel more vulnerable and wide-open. When he saw the other open his mouth, in rejection, no doubt, he hurried to say,"There is something wrong with the water- pipes, anyway, and it would be good if you check them."

Dean pondered over that for a while. True, he didn't want to leave Cas alone, the world out there was dangerous! Even in times like these there could be found psychopaths, but if the former angel wanted to go... And after all, the demon tried to reason with himself, the easiest way to chain a man was by letting him think he was free. He nodded and upon seeing that gesture, Castiel lit up, which made the other squirm in his seat from the sudden heat that'd coursed through his body.

The rest of the meal they spent in silence, but neither of them minded- they didn't need conversations to keep the things from getting awkward. When they finished, they cleaned the table together and, call him a sap, but Dean couldn't help the warm smile that this domestic gesture brought. Must be the way he'd been raised, the demon convinced himself, he had never had those kinds of memories with his own family.

Dumping the plates in the sink, Cas cast a glance at the other man. As if felt the gaze Dean lifted his head and sent him a smile and the former angel didn't notice he was smiling back until his sides started to hurt. He quickly looked away, a soft blush creeping down his neck.

"Well, I'd better get some money and go then," the former angel said and all but ran away from the room.

Dean stared after him, blinking owlishly at the closed door, as he, for the first time, couldn't find, or make up for that matter, the hidden meaning behind Castiel's actions. He shook his head slowly, incredulously, before turning to the sink. The demon switched on the water and a distant sound of water, rushing toward him, reached his ears. This sound, however, disappeared abruptly and Dean realized that if he hadn't been a supernatural creature he wouldn't have heard it at all. The problem was in the pipes then, he nodded to himself.

After casting a final glance out of the window to confirm his suspicion that Cas had gone out without saying goodbye, and yes, there he was, just walking out of the door, the sun creating a golden halo around his head and making him look like the angel he was going to become if Dean didn't stop him, the demon headed toward the maze. What had he done? He had tried, well, not really, it was coming naturally, to be nice. There was nothing he had done wrong, the demon was sure of it. And anyway what was with Cas anyway- one second he was smiling in that delicious way that made Dean want to ravish him on the floor and the next he couldn't stay in the same room with him? He didn't know why, but it reminded him of something.

He was still in thoughts when he opened the maze's door and walked down the stairs so it wasn't that surprising that when he finally lifted his head to look at the pipes he couldn't stop the gasp that left his lips. The pipes or rather one pipe was enormous, its diameter was at least half a meter, Dean thought after a few seconds of just staring at it with his mouth open. It was really weird, as if there was something inside the stuck out part. And there was, something alive if the soft, barely-there breathing was taken into consideration.

With a fast step he went to the pipes and tore the one below the puffed out part. He was going to worry about fixing it later. A human body and some water mixed with blood fell out and wasn't he happy that the pipes hadn't worked because explaining why there was blood instead of water coming from the faucet would have been tricky. Dean used the tip of his boots to roll the body, his eyes narrowing when he recognized it- that was Ryan, the annoying neighbour who had nearly busted his story and had been way too friendly with Castiel for the demon's comfort. But who would have done that? Finding a murderer these days was nearly as impossible as meeting a devoted, non-fanatic, christian in the days he had been human. And more importantly who had sneaked in the house without Dean noticing? Damn, he was getting sloppy.

Except... there was one _thing_ that wouldn't find any difficulties with entering a house guarded by a demon, carry in a corpse and hide it in the pipes of all places. Alastair, that son of a bitch, he was going to pay! First, though, he had to take care of Ryan. He didn't like the poor bastard, but that didn't mean he could let him die in here. With a sigh, it was such a shame that he couldn't show up in front of Cas and say that he had saved a life, he bent down and touched the guy's forehead. It was amazingly similar to the way angels revived people and once he had asked some lower demon why was that, but he had received only a stuttered, incomprehensible answer.

Ryan's breath hitched and then got more steady as he fell into easy sleep. Dean lifted him and threw him over his shoulder. Now he just had to dump him on the street and make it look like he had bumped his head on a rock, and if he was lucky the man would think that he had been sleepwalking and won't even question himself why he was out there.

Ten minutes later and one body less later, Dean was wondering how to proceed. He could always use the goblet to contact Alastair, or he could go to Hell and was it him or it was happening way too frequently. As if the older demon was trying to deliberately sabotage his work. His face flushed in anger and his body shook and before he even realized it he was in front of Alastair office. He stepped closer, the doors opening before him, and entered the room.

"How dare you interfere with _my_ mission. What would have happened if Cas had seen the body?" Dean snapped at the older demon immediately. He was almost growling, but received only a creepily-sweet smile in return.

"Then he would have remembered all the things you did together, everything you did to him." He cocked his head."And I only used that human's blood to avoid these situations. See, I do help you, you just can't appreciate it."

"It's too early, he's not ready." Dean ignored the little voice in his head telling him that Cas was starting to open up, that if he remembered now it would still be too late and he'd be a sinner, he would be denied the Heaven's gates.

"Then hurry up, you have only three days. Or are you going to sit on your thumbs and wait for the feathered shit to fly out of our gasps?" Alastair's voice got just a tad louder, but it was a clear sign that he was done screwing around. Dean flinched, not from the timbre of his voice, though. "I said that it would be great if you did it, but I never meant that you are the only one able to seduce him. Satan, we could always send someone to rape him, break him and make him impure. I was good, Dean, letting you take care of him, but if you turn your back on me bad things would happen to Castiel."

"Now listen to me very carefully. If you as much as touch him, I'll exorcise you myself," Dean snarled through gritted teeth. It was an empty promise, no demon could exorcise another of his kind, it would be like a suicide, and yet it made Alastair freeze and his eyes- widen. He started saying something, but the other demon wasn't able to hear him because at that moment he was traveling back to Earth.

A blink of an eye later Dean stood in front of the house, heavy raindrops smashing onto his hair and shoulders. He looked around, Ryan was nowhere in sight, and then up with confusion written on his face, like a man who had never seen rain, or it had been too long since his last time and if he thought about it it wasn't far from the truth. One drop fell on his nose, another on his eyebrow and he grimaced. Before he went "downstairs" he could swear it had been sunny. How fast did the weather change. And he and Cas had decided to have a picnic. Cas... his mind started working frantically, he was forgetting something. Cas was out, there was rain, his body... his body was weak. Too weak to survive even a flu!

Dean turned on his heels, fear and thick adrenalin pumping through his veins. He didn't remember the last time he had been so scared, felt so alive, and yet he would have given his damned soul for it to not happen again. He was just about to start running when his gaze fell on the lithe figure coming toward him, its face hidden by a large flowery umbrella, but he still didn't find it difficult to recognize it. His blood froze as he took in the damp shirt, clinging to the too pale skin, and if he had been human he was sure he would have died from the sudden change of his heartbeat.

The demon walked toward the other, his steps frighteningly slow and heavy and as if with each one of them the Earth shook, or at least to him it seemed that way. His whole body was thumping with anger that doubled and tripled when he saw how Cas' body was shaking from the cold.

"Dean?" the priest asked, cocking his head on one side, when they met halfway and he finally noticed him.

"Come, let's get you inside." The voice was calm, and maybe that was the problem, because it made Castiel feel uneasy and as if he was missing something. The other took a hold of his wrist, curling his fingers around it in a vice grip that made the former angel wince in pain.

"What's wrong?" Cas asked carefully as he was dragged toward the house. When there was no reply, he snatched his hand away and stilled on his spot, waiting calmly for the other to turn around. He could see that the other was upset and, yes, it pained him a little, but he had done nothing wrong to be treated in such a way.

"Where did you find that?" changed the subject Dean, jerking his head toward the umbrella. His face showed nothing from what he was feeling, but panic flashed through his eyes every time Castiel's body shook with the cold. He tried to take the other's hand in his own again, forgetting he was supposed to wait for the answer, they had no time, but the former angel dodged his hand.

"As I was passing a house, an old lady came out and gave it to me." Cas shrugged as if it happened every day, and it was partly true. People _were_ actually helpful without expecting something in return - one of the few good things about that era. "But you didn't answer my question, Dean. What happened?"

"I... I was just worried, okay." Dean huffed and turned to walk away. For a second he was worried that Castiel would see right through his act, but then he heard the priest chasing after him and then falling into step with him, tilting the umbrella so it could shield them both from the rain. A few meters they spent in silence before Cas tried to make amends.

"I'm sorry, at first I thought I could wait it out, but when it didn't stop..." He shook his head, huffing, before he continued. "As I said, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry, I didn't think you," _cared._ That was what he was going to say, but he couldn't. This man had told him in the eyes that he wanted to corrupt him, that he wanted him in the bedroom, once, and nowhere else, as he had desired so many before him. And now he expected him to believe that? Cas couldn't even wrap his mind around it, but he wanted to believe it so much_._

"It's okay. Just... don't do it again." Dean smiled up to him, a hint of doubt in his heart that this was more than an act after all.

Once in the house, Cas was instantly pushed in the bathroom. Before he had time to complain or refuse, he found himself in the room, with Dean taking the groceries out of his hands, ordering him to take a shower and promising him that he would bring him a towel and then cook him some soup. He sounded like a worried mother and Castiel couldn't help the swelling of his heart from that seemingly real care.

"I'll take a shower only if you do it too. You are no less wet than I'm," teased the priest when the other's rant was over.

The first thing that came to Dean's mind was a picture of Castiel wet in _other_ ways, naked, spread open for him, his, only his and that made him growl in his throat. But then he remembered where he was and the former angel's state and had to shake off that fantasy. Later, he promised to himself.

"Of course, now hurry up with the undressing unless you want me to do it for you," he rushed to said and disappeared from the bathroom before Cas could question his flushed state.

True to his promise, Dean searched for a fluffy towel right away and when he found the perfect one he left it on the doorknob. He thought about preparing clothes for the other, but decided against it- who knew how Cas would react when he found out he had been sniffing in his luggage.

He was putting the ingredients he was going to need for the soup on the counter when he heard footsteps coming closer. The demon looked up and froze, his body thumping with need, when he saw Castiel, naked as the day he'd been born, with just a towel that was riding too low on his hips. But quickly worry replaced desire as he remembered how dangerous that was for him and if he'd been a bit busy right then, because, hello, naked man in his kitchen that could drop down any second, that rapid change would have alarmed him.

"What are you doing here? Go put some clothes on," he said, voice thick with lust that made his words sound like he was growling them. Castiel took an instinctive step back as something resembling fear crossed his eyes before he smiled and strode toward the other man. He put his hand on the demon's, stilling it, and Dean had to suppress the shiver of want when the former angel's heated-from-the-shower flesh burned him.

"I came to tell you that the shower is free. Staying with wet clothes is like asking for a cold."

Dean looked down at himself, as if he had forgotten that he was still in those clothes and in a matter of fact he had. Slowly he shook his head, this was the perfect excuse to get away from that...boy... that attracted him like a freaking magnet! He withdrew his hand, almost expecting to see smoke coming out of it, and left the room.

Once in the bathroom the demon realized he didn't really have to wash, but he had missed the mundane things in his every day life like taking a shower. Sure, in Hell they have bathed him- with acid and lava and molten metal... you name it. A real shower, however, he hadn't taken in ages.

With no hurry he took off his clothes, revealing pale, smooth skin. They have taken every scar he had had that showed he was a warrior against evil. Maybe because he wasn't worthy his battle marks anymore... being a thing he used to hunt. One scar in particular he missed more, a scar that screamed possession and back in the old days it had disturbed him, but as the decades went every time he saw it, as he learned to will his skin to turn just that way to create the illusion of it, he could feel a burning in his eyes. Not that he would ever admit it.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to imagine it, the way it was swollen, how red it was and seconds later he could feel a burning on his arm, as if the hand-mark was being created in that exact moment. He squeezed his eyes even tighter as he ran his hands over it and a sudden image of Castiel cocking his head and telling, not asking, him, "You think you don't deserve to be saved." appeared behind his eyelids

He climbed into the shower, the hot water dancing across his skin and sending thrills of pleasure through his body. Funny, as he stood there the memory of his first meeting with Cas popped into his head. Not the one in the warehouse, but the first one, the one he had been able to remember only when he was back in Hell. And he remembered it far too clearly, the way the angel fought with all those demons for him, the way his arms felt around his waist as he dragged him up and away. Cas had saved him and now Dean was trying to bring him down. And everything, as he now realized, because he would miss him if the priest was to return to Haven. It was selfish, Dean knew it, but he was a demon after all... it was a part of his job description.

Cas used the time Dean was in the bathroom to finish the soup, a skill that admittedly was better than his ability to make breakfast. When he put the pot on the stove he padded upstairs to change into something more... dignifying... than a towel. Strange, though, he had no desire to change as if he was all alone in the house. But he was shaking, from the cold he assumed, and he didn't want to catch a cold and trouble the other man. It was clear how much he would despise taking care of him, if the level of his worry was any indicator.

He had just finished buttoning his jeans and reaching for his shirt when the door to the room opened and a dripping-wet Dean appeared on the doorway. Cas' mind needed exactly half a second to banish the wistful thoughts that popped inside it and will his body to turn around, but not before letting out a squawk. A few long second nothing but the rustling of clothes was heard and then the former angel mumbled.

"I'm sorry." Whether he was sorry for over-reacting or for being here all together it didn't become clear, but it seemed it was enough for Dean. He chuckled loudly and after the particularly loud sound of a zipper he said with hints of amusement in his voice,

"It's okay. This is your room too, you know. You can turn around."

Cas nodded to the wall and then slowly turned around. He started saying something, maybe warning the other about the soup he had put on the oven? He honestly didn't remember, couldn't recall his name at that moment if you asked him. Because there Dean was half naked, water still running down his naked chest in little rivers, towel resting carelessly on his shoulders. And even that wasn't enough to shake him. His gaze had stopped on a red, hand-shaped wound on the other man shoulder. The former angel stepped closer, drawn to that thing as if it was the key of the mystery in the back of his mind that no matter how many times he poked remained intact.

If he had looked up then he would have seen the look of pure horror and guilt written on Dean's face. Son of a bitch, the demon couldn't stop cursing himself, he had forgotten to hide it! But it was too late already, he could see the too old and knowing gaze, one that couldn't be possessed by a twenty-year old boy. Now he could only hope, pray, but to who, for Cas to be all right.

Eternity later Cas reached Dean, who hadn't moved ever since he realized what was happening. What was the point? He couldn't escape. The former angel stretched his hand, discovering with a gasp that it was shaking, his whole body was, and slowly, carefully, placed it on top of the wound. A hurricane of pictures and feelings spun his mind. He couldn't concentrate on one thing, didn't want to, didn't matter. There was fire, someone was screaming. He was hot and sad, these days he hadn't known what sadness was and yet now looking back he could name the tightening of his chest every time someone yelped in pain. But he couldn't save them all, not yet, he had a mission. And then he saw him- the most beautiful man. Of course, he wasn't a man, but a shadow, smoke, and yet the angel couldn't take his eyes off him.

He was soaked in blood, not his, didn't smell like his, cutting a girl, smiling cruelly as she writhed in pain. But his soul, it was screaming even louder than the female, it was begging for some mercy, for someone to kill it. Cas reached for that man, wrapping a hand around his waist, or where it was supposed to be, and the other pressing on his shoulder. A warmth he had never felt before washed through him and the corner of his lips tugged upward just like those of so many humans he had seen.

Dimly he felt a pressure on his head, but that was stupid, he didn't have a head. However, before he could even dwell on that thought darkness fell over his eyes and consumed him.

When Cas had touched his scar, Dean had felt a sudden warmth wrap his body and he shuddered, pictures of Hell running behind his eyelids like a film. He saw himself torturing a girl, whose only sin had been falling in love with another woman, but at that time he hadn't cared. He still didn't care! But why memories that a week ago would have brought a sadistic smile on his face now made his stomach turn.

The contact was lost, but he remained frozen in his spot, his gaze locked onto the distant trees. What had he done? He was unfit for the mission, he should retried now. He knew that but every fibre of his body was stopping him, whispering "What about Cas?". Dean couldn't leave him, he didn't realize it now, but it was a lost cause- trying to forget the one you used to love. Even if his brain and heart were brand new they still remembered.

A soft thud brought his attention and Dean snapped his gaze toward the fallen figure before quickly kneeling down and gathering it in his hands. Gently, then, he placed him on the bed and covered him with the blanket. This recovery was too fast. True, he was at fault too, but Cas' reaction was too strong. And no matter how much the demon tried not to suspect anyone he couldn't help the feeling that someone was speeding up the process.

Alastair maybe? But, no, even if he was able to get on his apprentice's nerves he would never do something that threatened the existence of the demons. God? Dean almost laughed at that thought. If it was up to him, Cas would spend even more time with him so the chance to fuck up would double. Then who? Who was powerful enough to do that? Dean swiped his hand across the other's forehead and frowned, the priest had a fever. Whoever had done that to him... he swore to himself that he would kick their ass. Funny, really, considering the fact who was behind everything.

He didn't know how long he had stayed there, just sitting near the bed and staring at Cas, searching for any hint that he might wake up, before a sharp smell reached his nose. He didn't pay it any attention, it was an ordinary smell in the world he was coming from and he had learned to ignore it. He even thought he was imagining it. But when it become stronger he decided it was worth a look.

A smile lit up his features when he went downstairs and discovered a boiling pot on the oven. He felt a little sad, though that he wouldn't be able to taste that soup, but he quickly settled down to business. It was easier to lose himself into a well-known task, than to count the seconds to something he was afraid might not happen, after all.

Some times later Cas finally woke up. He blinked once, twice, at the lamp, and weird, but wasn't it turned off just a moment ago when... Fire, Dean, pain, the memories hit him like a rock and he shot up in bed.

"Cas? What's wrong?" he heard someone ask and turned toward it, his gaze instantly locking onto the object of his worry that looked as scared as the priest was feeling.

"N-nothing. I had a weird dream." He shook his head, trying to chase it away, but the image was stuck. It had been a dream, though, hadn't it? Of course, it had been, nothing like that could have happened. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from turning toward Dean and asking him, "Will you take off your shirt?"

The other blinked at him confusedly, before bursting into laughter, raising his hands in front of his chest in mock surrender. "Woah, easy there tiger."

"Please?" And maybe, just maybe, he had put his famous puppy eyes into the plead.

For a few seconds Dean didn't say anything, but then he sighed and slowly took off his shirt, revealing his pale muscular body. Not that Cas paid it any attention, his whole focus was on the other's shoulder and where his mark used to be. Had been in his dream, he corrected himself and shook his head. This time with more success because the memory slowly started to fade away.

"So why am I here? Did I fall asleep?" He finally let himself look around and the first thing that caught his eyes was that it was already dark outside. "I don't remember laying down."

"You fainted," Dean responded, hastily putting his shirt back on. "You had a fever and I thought you should rest. Don't give me that look, I didn't strip you or did anything dirty to you."

I know you didn't, Cas almost replied before he could caught himself. He couldn't, though had no idea how to explain that he was sure Dean won't touch him again. He couldn't explain it to himself either. Just... it was like a part of him burst into hysterical laughter at the idea of Dean Winchester molesting him in his dream.

He let himself fall backward and turned on his side toward the other, burrowing his hands beneath the pillow. A yawn escaped his lips and that made him frown

"Is it weird that I'm sleepy again?" he asked brokenly, blinking slowly as to chase away the tiredness that suddenly embraced his body. He hugged the pillow closer and closed his eyes just for a second.

"Technically, you blacked out not fell asleep, so, no, it's perfectly normal. Besides, it's 10 o'clock already."

Dean tried to slide down nonchalantly, but then he realized that Cas was in no shape to even notice they were sharing a bed. A smirk playing on his lips, that would be easy, he wriggled closer. Just a little mor...

"What are you doing?" Cas snapped his eyes open moments before Dean had wrapped his arms around him and stared at him in that creepy way that said "I'm now thinking of a hundred ways to kill you". Of course, he was too sleepy for a hundred. Fifty maybe?

"Nothing, Just getting comfortable. Sleep now, tomorrow we are having a picnic."

The priest hummed in response and continued to stare at him until Dean remember to back a little and go on his side of the bed. "Wouldn't the grass be wet?"

"It had dried off by now. A little after you fainted the storm disappeared and the rest of the day it was sunny."

That was a lie, of course, there was no way the grass would dry on its own so fast. But then again who said it would be alone.

Cas nodded, too tired to suspect the other in lying and wriggled slightly. Even Dean was starting to relax and fall asleep when the priest opened his eyes with a gasp.

"My soup!"

"I took care of it," The demon sighed. No rest for the wicked, huh? "Go to sleep."

"Oh... thank you." Cas smiled sleepily and let the dream wrap tightly around him.


	6. Day Five

**A/N ***sigh***** Yes, I'm a bad person, a horrible author and I should rot in Hell, I know. The good news are that I'm almost ready with the next chapter so give me a week (or a liiiitle bit more...) and it'll be ready. And I won't be hated any more!

Chapter 5

Day Five

a. k. a.

Only Angels Fall

Dean was hot. Not that kind of warmth that Hell provided, the current one wrapped around him and gave him a sense of belonging, whereas the one he was used to was more likely to burn you from the inside. It made him comfortable and relaxed. A second later his half-conscious brain wondered if it _was_ from Hell and if it was designed to make him lower his guard. Another second passed and he decided it didn't matter. Fake or not, it was fantastic.

And then the hitting started. It was more annoying than painful, really. Not even forceful. As if someone slowly but methodically was landing their fist onto his body again and again. He frowned but he still didn't make a move to escape the offending hand.

He was just falling asleep again when something made his eyes fly open and a gasp- leave his mouth. Funny, it wasn't the trembling body inside his hands nor the punches that got steadier by the second. What awoke him from his slumber was the hot, wet thing that touched his chest.

Suddenly, all kinds of memories crushed against his scull. He wasn't in Hell, or at least not literally, but on Earth. His eyes lowered and landed on someone's face. And there it was- his reason to be in that stinky place. But... wait... he'd been through this, right. He'd quit, hadn't he. Some part of him had half-expected to wake up on his comfy, heated-to-white metal bed.

The memory was enough to make him rethink his decision. Almost. He couldn't do this, not even if Alastair was probably thinking of the best punishment for him as he lay there, he realized it now, even if too late. He _had_ loved Cas too much. It was weird, that sensation. He didn't love the man in his arms. He was drawn to him but only because of the way he looked and the little resemblance he showed sometimes to someone long since forgotten by everyone but him. He was like a reflection in a strained mirror, only a few things revealed his identity. Not enough to make the demon love him but enough for Dean not to be able to hate him either. He couldn't help but snort at how changeable his emotions were, or maybe the fact that he had emotions.

Shaking his head, he focused his attention to the matter at hand. Even in the dim moonlight he could see that Cas' face was marred with tears and he bought one hand to wipe them away.

"...e go, I want to touch you," Castiel mumbled, his whole frame trembling more violently and Dean went rigid once again. Where had he heard that?

It sounded so familiar, not only the words but the voice they were spoken with. The memory- buried a layer too deep in his brain... The demon tried to ignore it. He had been around a lot, why should he care if something he heard soun...

'Let me go, I want to touch you,' a ghost of a voice whispered in his ear and it sounded so real, as if the breath was caressing his lobe. And suddenly he remembered all too well. It had been the day, night, who cared, he became a demon in Hell instead of just another soul to torture. He had had that... test, nothing different from what he did every day and yet it had taken him years to shake it off. Or so he had thought, but as the memory invaded his mind he realized he was shaking and tears were gathering in his eyes. Just as they had when he was dragging that blade over Castiel's white skin.

To put it simple, he had had to torture his angel to be accepted as a demon. To hurt his most precious and walk away with a smile. He had done it, obviously, but not for a second had he enjoyed it. Nevertheless, even now if you asked him he would still deny that for years after that he woke up, when he _did_ fall asleep, with tears down his sides.

But that didn't explain why Castiel dreamed of that. No one could project Dean's memories inside the former anger's head. It wasn't possible. Or maybe, and even in his head it sounded fake and surreal, it was just a coincidence. Castiel had had an even longer life than the demon, it was acceptable that he was dreaming of something else.

His lips met something warm and solid and only then did he realize he had kissed the other man's forehead. That in fact he was still kissing it, his lips firm, putting pressure on the skin as if trying to suck away the memories from the other's brain, and his hands had tightened their grasp on Cas' body.

He had held him so close only once before, when he had started becoming human and his mind had been punishing him with nightmares. He remembered how sweet and vulnerable he had looked back then, his large trench coat hanging from his narrow frame as he asked with childish innocence why did he had dreams of bloodied people and why every time he opened his eyes his heartbeat was accelerated. It had been difficult to explain it to him but weirdly easy to convince him that everything would be okay if they shared a bed. He cringed inwardly, even when a hunter he had had the ways of a demon.

But now was different, he didn't have an excuse to hold that lithe body. Still, as reality gave place to dream he couldn't help but squeeze the former angel slightly. His only hope as he faded away in the warmth was that he would wake up before Cas and avoid the need of giving an explanation to his octopus-state.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't able to wake up before his bed mate. What made him open his eyes was the light movement of the slowly wakening man next to him. He had enough time to withdraw his arms and to shift his body so it created the illusion there was a great distance between them and he was just closing his eyes when Castiel opened them. Their gazes locked for a second, Cas, blue eyes wrapped in the fog of sleep, stared at him as if not seeing him, just for a moment, before Dean was back to pretending to sleep, his breath even despite his rapid heartbeat. Those hazy eyes, he remembered them. But back then they had been clouded with lust, pleasure, because of him. The familiar desire to flip Cas over and show him just how much he'd been missing (not anymore, he wasn't a virgin anymore) mixed with something different. A thing he'd denied of feeling even when he was still a human. He'd been a hunter, a warrior and later on a demon, he couldn't dream that he was...

Cas stirred next to him and the bed dipped as he sat up. The demon tried desperately to relax as he felt the air over his skin move.

"You could have fooled me," the former angel whispered and the whole thing with Dean trying not to show he was awake? Flew out of the window. He was about to open his eyes and apologize or deny or who knew what when he felt a finger ghosting over his cheek. "It could have been so easy if you hadn't told me. But then again you wanted me to know that the only thing you desired was to see me in your bed. It was funnier that way, wasn't it? For me to know and to want it anyway. You wanted an angel to play with in Hell. Only there is a hole in your plan for I'm no longer an angel."

Dean's eyes snapped open, he couldn't help it. He watched in horror and disbelief the man beside him, the endless mantra "No!" circling around his brain. It couldn't be true, not now, too early. But there was something more, something even more scary, that no matter how many times he banished came back to taunt him. There was relief in his heart. Pure, disgusting relief. He hadn't even embraced that fact before Cas blinked and the magic was broken.

"Good morning, Dean. Would you like eggs for breakfast?" the former angel asked and if the other had been in his right mind he would have freaked at how familiar that voice had started to sound. Now he was too busy freaking out at everything that was happening.

"Cas?" His voice was as calm and tentative as he could get it to be. Similar to talking to a frightened animal even though Lucifer knew that if Castiel had returned his memories the former angel would be everything but a scared _anything_.

"You don't like eggs, then?" Cas nodded solemnly and made a move to get up, stopping only when Dean's fingers curled around his wrist. "Yes?"

"The thing you said..."

"Isn't it a custom to say this as you wake up?"

And for the n-th time today Dean had to ignore the unnerving resemblance that Cas had developed overnight to the angel from his memories in favour of the seemingly fruitless tries to understand what was going on. "Before that."

"I said nothing, Dean, are you sure you haven't caught anything from me?"

The reminder that the other was sick was probably the only thing that could have worked to distract him in that moment; the well-being of his loved ones, not that he admitted Cas was a loved one, had always been on top of his list of priorities. In one swift movement he had the former angel laid on his back, a hand pressed firmly on his forehead, only to withdraw it even faster, something akin to blush painting his sides. The other was fine, no temperature, even if a little pale. Strong enough to beat him into a pulp, if he wanted to or if he remembered that he'd wanted to.

Only then did the other part of what Cas had said register in his mind. _"I said nothing._ Nothing... except it was everything. A few word, as heavy as worlds, universes. Words that were hard to utter and even harder to forget. But then again if the fallen angel remembered them Dean knew he wouldn't be able to fake that concern shining in his eyes, he wouldn't care at all and that wouldn't feel like cold dagger ripping his heart apart.

"Nothing? I must have dreamed it up." He smiled, lips twitching nervously, and added before Cas had had the chance to note his flushed state, "And you are not moving from the bed. I'll make the breakfast and then maybe if you are a good boy we'll go out."

The last part had been uncalled for, but he felt like saying it. No harm in acting a bit like his old self just to... feel like himself again. Castiel nodded, bewildered, perhaps still trying to make sense of all those things Dean had done, and that was everything the other had been waiting for so he hurriedly dashed out of the bed and the room.

He worked quickly in the kitchen, clean, always clean- it crept him out now- the idea that someone had been there, almost as if his hunter instincts were returning, the late realization that leaving Cas alone with his thoughts hadn't been such a bright idea as he had first thought. Not that he had thought _anything_ as he was running down to the kitchen.

Eggs, bacon, two slices of bread covered in butter on his plate and he was heading upstairs.

Six steps, a turn, six more. Thirteen in all. Mere moments but it was enough for him. He finally decided what he was going to do today, what with the recent decision to ignore the main reason for his coming to Earth. When Cas had started talking, the first time, he had felt something. Panic, relief, even if he wasn't over the stage of denying that one, and something else, even stranger than both of the feelings altogether. Disappointment. Sadness. The fact that he had given up, that he couldn't hate Cas enough to doom him didn't mean he didn't want to spend the rest of the 7 days with him. He had realized it, late but he had. He was going to enjoy the days he had before the fallen angel went to the only place he couldn't follow him to.

_Two_ days with an imposter that looked like his long-since-dead lover were better than nothing at all.

With that as if a great burden was lifted from his shoulders- his step become lighter, his face-brighter. Too bad that newly found energy was only spent on climbing up the stairs and opening a door.

The first thing that greeted him was Castiel's smile and he almost wished he could go back and re-enter the room. For one of the weirdest moments in his life so far he actually thought a portal in time had opened and he was staring at Cas from 20 years, or if you wanted to be precise from 500 years ago. That smile, just a twitch of the lips, spoke volumes and yet said nothing. It was amazingly similar to the one Cas had been wearing in the days he was turning human and revealed nothing of the reason behind that transformation.

He turned around and ran, afraid that if he stayed too long that smile would be replaced by memories. Almost. Then he remembered he was a freaking demon and before that he had been a hunter- his life couldn't be more fucked up.

Wordlessly, he passed the tray into the fallen angel's outstretched hands and took his place on the edge of the bed. After a soft "Thank you" from the fallen angel the only sounds filling the air were one of eating, accompanied with the occasional rumble of the demon's stomach.

"Do you want some, Dean?" Castiel finally asked, looking up from his breakfast when the noise repeated for the third time.

That managed to take the other out of his stupor. Dean looked at him confusedly, frown marring his features, before he realized exactly what the fallen angel meant. His first reaction was to gape at his stomach, he hadn't been hungry for years so why now? Why here? Why as Cas slowly turned angel again he gradually became... human-ish.

"No, thank you," he heard himself utter.

"I can't eat it all, anyway. Please."

Cas picked up one of the toasts and lifted it to Dean's mouth. The demon had to repress a smile at the childish action and his mouth opened unconsciously, letting Cas to stuff it with food.

Before either of them knew, Cas was feeding them both. And how sad it was that this could easily place in his top ten moments so far this week, hell, this century. Not only was the food great, however simple it was it was working to sate his hunger and it was a wonderful feeling. He could enjoy Castiel enjoying his food, watch as his lips parted to accept the bacon between them, track his tongue darting out to lick the butter off his bread and feel his Adam apple move as the former angel sucked lightly the eggs into his mouth.

All too soon and it was over, Dean's throat convulsing when the last piece disappeared into his own mouth along with the other's fingers, which he lightly sucked on, just to compare the taste. Much better than the eggs, any eggs, any food. He shook his head.

"Well, I better leave you now." He reluctantly stood up.

"Dean..."

The demon turned around to snap at the other, his frustration bubbling beneath his skin, just to remain speechless. The man before him, soon-to-be-corpse with 2 days to live, looked more alive than most people wandering the streets. Cheeks flushed, from the fever but his mind ignored that little fact, slightly ajar mouth as if waiting for something, _something_ Dean was willing to give, wide eyes filled with something akin to fear. Not that he cared.

Love you could fight, he suddenly realized. It had points you could easily ignore, its soft words could be turned to a deaf ear. Lust was something entirely different, it hit your weakest spots. No reason, no mercy. Love was the craving of the heart and lust- of the body. A creature without heart couldn't be in love. Clearly.

Briefly, he wondered if it was biologically true as it was psychologically. He wouldn't put it past Alastair to leave him hollow inside.

Dean focused his gaze on the other, expectation clear in his eyes, even if forced to no measure.

"Nothing."

The clear, almost childish expression that had had some hidden power beneath it was now wrinkled in confusion. "I forgot"

The demon nodded, chasing that absurd relief from his body and trying to silence the voice telling him that if the other had forgotten then it surely had been... He had avoided it and that was all that counted. He took the tray and left. His only hope was that it wouldn't appear as if he was running away. Thing he, deniably but only for himself, was doing.

Once downstairs he could only imagine from the sounds reaching his ears the white flesh poking from beneath the pants that were slowly sliding upwards, until they reached squeezable hips. The little nipples standing at attention before they were covered, soft, barely developed muscles pulsing under the shirt that in the demon's imagination was his own palms.

Those images tortured him, playing in his mind until there was no saliva in his throat and his pants felt like they couldn't contain him no longer. Then, finally, he remembered he had food to prepare and quickly went to business.

It took them far too much time to reach the perfect spot, considering the fact that Dean was pretending he knew where it was and when they reached a field that seemed like it could work it was already noon. The demon busied himself with the blanket and the food, setting everything on its place and glancing at the former angel who couldn't take his wonder-filled eyes off the view. Cas had spent his whole life surrounded by walls, he remembered, first the one of his house and then the church's. Dean couldn't help but pity him. For one pitiful second... and then the priest bent down to fetch a water bottle and everything the other could see... was really not suitable for imagining in such a close proximity to the other main character of his fantasy.

Cas wrapped his pink lips around the neck of the bottle and, when he noticed the attention, smiled, causing a few droplets to roll from the edge to his mouth down his neck.

The neck the other so eagerly wanted to lick. Actually he wanted to lick the priest's body, see how it tasted, how other things would taste on it. Priest...He focused on that, the word burnt his mouth. An idiot, devoted himself to a dick. Why didn't anyone devote themselves to his dick? It was better than normal, far better if he could say so himself, and most importantly it usually responded when you talked to it. And it was THERE, not ditching you and all of your kind for a holy vacation with Buddha.

"The grass is always greener on the other side. Especially if it's guarded by an electric fence and a dog,"the demon murmured under his nose. Comparing your lust-interest to grass. Yes, that was the path to sanity.

"That's not possible, Dean. Unless you use some sort of chemicals but that was forbidden 5 years ago. And I don't quite understand what the dog and the fence have to do with anything."

The demon didn't know what startled him more- the know-it-all, distant, _so_ _familiar_ voice Cas had used at the beginning or the I-don't-understand-the-reference one it had quickly changed into. His head snapped at the former angel's direction just in time to see his bewildered gaze and shock-opened mouth and too late to caught him as he stumbled on the ground.

Not that it stopped him from trying and in a matter of second, he would have been more careful with showing how exactly non-human he was if he had been thinking clearly, was next to the fallen form and carefully cradling it in his arms and lifted it. Cas snuggled closer, wrapping his hands around his neck. Dean was just contemplating on telling him to back off, but then again where would he back off and really there were just a few steps to the blanket, he could do it, when he caught the frown.

"What's wrong?"

"You smell funny," laughed Castiel in response and then broke into a grin only a maniac or a high-as-a-kite man could manage. Dean decided to humor him.

"Yeah? And how should I smell?"

"Like gun oil and leather."

Hollow. Numb. Cold as if someone had ripped out his insides and filled him with ice. Shattered, if there was something worth breaking in him. Words that could describe Dean at that moment. Nothing. Happier than he had ever been and even more disoriented. So sad he wanted to jump into the water softly rumbling next to them. And if he died, really died- disappeared from the face of Earth... he would have put lucky in that list.

"And why is that?" he finally found his voice. Maybe it was a coincidence, his mind supplied, it wasn't necessary for Cas to remember to say that.

Just to lose him again when the lack of answer made him look down at his hands and his eyes fell to the softly snoring form of one Castiel. And he wanted to cry out or maybe yell but he didn't because that would have woken the other up and he felt sick at how much he hated the idea. Because the saliva falling steady out of the former angel's mouth or the little red lines that had started forming on his face from the way he had pressed it against the demon's chest or even the weirdly twisted body was anything but sexy.

It was cute, the kind of cute that made people like him want to puke. Like a little baby or an elderly couple. He had never seen such an entrancing thing in his life. This wasn't what a person in lust would fe.. He found his finger tracing Cas' jawline, collecting the dampness, and snatched it away.

He couldn't dump the former angel on the blanket fast enough after that. Even though he still managed to be careful and the sheer memory of that made him walk even faster toward the river.

Water had always been able to relax him, he remembered as he was cleaving through it. It had started out as a simple gesture of disobedience, one of the few he had made. John had never been into it. Earth was good, you could protect yourself just fine. But water was hiding secrets- supernatural and completely mundane. You could learn how to kill a zombie, but a shark?

Despite his father's numerous warnings, or because of them, he couldn't remember anymore, he taught himself how to swim. It had never been more dangerous than his everyday life. He had saved a lot of lives with his skills, too... and women killed for a man who could swim and looked good in the water.

It felt good around him. Cold. Free. Reliable, persistent. Always changing but no, not really, never losing its true form. Even if you sliced it with a hand it would retreat for just a second before embracing you again.

He envied it, an inanimate object, how pathetic was that? And yet he had _never_ been those things. Shifting, yes, but always because of someone- John, the YED, angels and demons. He could never remain himself. Dean smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. He didn't even know who he was without anyone to 'guide' him.

He emerged from the water, gulping in air more from the force of habit than by necessity.

"You are good," Cas smiled next to him and weirdly enough he didn't even jump. It was so much like 'his' Cas, appearing out of thin air, not respecting any personal space and saying the most awkward things in the most awkward moments.

"And you are sick. " _And supposed to be in bed_. They shouldn't have come here. So absorbed by the idea of spending time with Cas he had forgotten it wasn't just a phrase, he wouldn't 'get better'. Dying... that single word cut harder than he was willing to admit.

As if read his thoughts Castiel smiled apologetically.

"I feel just fine, Dean. I don't need to stay in bed."

Briefly, the demon wondered what else could the other man see on his face before deciding that he really didn't want to know.

"People who feel 'fine' don't faint twice in a row"

"Statistically it wasn't in a row, it was a faint per d..."

Dean shut him off with a splash of water in the face. Silence stretched for exactly 2 seconds in which they were both watching each other, curious about the other's reaction, before the demon repeated the action and suddenly the tension was broken. They were laughing and playing, sickness and death pushed deep within... both their brains.

Cas had never felt so carefree and happy so like a child in his life. His chest hurt and his throat arched from all the laughing. So absorbed in the dizziness his happiness provoked he didn't notice when he went too deep, pushed by the merciless splashes. He yelped when he realized he could no longer feel the sand beneath his feet and seconds later he was sinking and trying to push himself to the surface again. But he had forgotten one little detail- he had no idea how to swim. It didn't help at all that he was still feeling a little weak.

At that moment the priest regretted lying. He had always done it for noble reasons, or at least that was what he told himself afterwards, but this time it had been selfish. He hadn't wanted to make Dean worry, he had wanted to wipe that little frown from his face that he got when he was thinking too hard on something, the same one that Cas didn't know he had noticed or how he knew what it meant. But the selfish thing in his reasoning was that he had done it all because the other man worrying had made him... feel. Things. And it was so scary and so new that he didn't know whether to tingle with anticipation or shake with fear. His body, in the moments it wasn't _drowning_, just took the decision for him and switched those two reaction from time to time.

And the former angel hated himself even more when he realized that his lie was the cause of Dean watching him with amusement in his eyes while his own were just this close on closing forever. He emerged from the water one final time before he gave up and let the liquid swallow him. Oxygen deprived or not he saw Dean's skin turn pale and his eyes shine impossible, inhumanly black. Suddenly, he felt so warm and relaxed and the water was burning his lungs like alcohol. He shouldn't have known how the last one tasted.

His name whispered with an urgency he hadn't heard even in his parents' voices made him crack an eye open. The sun shone too brightly, everything was too loud, his pants were too tight and his shirt was missing, hands went up and down his body, doing a better job at warming him than the sun. He wanted to smile but he knew it wouldn't be the most appropriate reaction.

"I'm sorry," Cas whispered when he found his voice and by the way the other man froze it had been even more inappropriate. "Saving me is the only thing you've been doing these days."

Dean smiled exhausted or maybe it was his eyes that were tired. "It doesn't matter. You are okay and that is the only important thing."

And that, that struck a chord in Cas' heart. It sounded so pure and genuine and it made his eyes harden and his hands- shake. It wasn't true. Because either Dean was a better actor than he had previously thought, or maybe the other had finally found his place under the priest's skin and no matter what he did or said it was the right thing, or the green-eyed man had fallen in love with him. For five days.

Yeah, right. Cas could explode from all the laugher bubbling inside of him because of the absurdity of the second variant if he didn't feel like he was about to burst into tears. And after nearly drowning he didn't want to add insult to injury by weeping in front of his saviour.

"What do you want from me?" Cas asked, anger hidden deep within his voice. For now.

"Nothing." Dean just shrugged and the other man didn't know why but it angered him even more.

"Oh, yes, that's right. You just want me!"

He sat up and tried to lift himself and move away but the two strong arms wrapped around his middle prevented it.

"Yeah. I want you. Tonight." Dean could feel the former angel tense in his embrace and held him tighter, waiting for the words to leave his mouth with the same curiosity Cas did. Sometimes it was just better to switch on auto-pilot and pretend what was happening was a movie in which nothing could go wrong and not your own life. "And tomorrow. And in twenty, fifty, a hundred years!"

The moment he said it he realized how true it was. Did he want to spend the eternity with Cas in his arms or him in the former angel's? Did he really want that Cas that talked and acted like the one from his dreams but not always? Could he love anyone for an eternity. Once his mind dared asking him those questions he... knew. What were two days if you could have an eternity.

He could teach the other, too. They had an eternity, he could make it his own personal project-Cas, show him what to say and do. That idea made his heart ache a little. It wouldn't be the same. No, he would wait for his former angel to remember or just fall in love with Cas-the-human. Somehow, that didn't sound as bad as it would have 5 days ago or even yesterday.

"You win," the little yet challenging voice broke him from his musings.

If he was his normal cocky self he would have replied "Sure, I always do." but he held his tongue. It would have been inappropriate and not to mention untrue.

"Hm?"

"Our bet. I don't... love you. I don't think I've ever felt love in the romantic sense of the word. But I'm attached to you, enough to want to hold you and ki... So you win and now you'll have 'your own private angel in Hell'"

Not-in-love Dean could work with. Not-in-love he had been himself just a few days ago, so he knew how easy it was for it to change in completely-and-utterly in-love. From the reminder of the bet his lips stretched into a smile, he had completely forgotten about it.

The demon propped his chin on the other's shoulder and made himself more comfortable by putting his feet on either side of the lithe body and forcing Cas, not that he complained, to snuggle in his chest.

Oddly enough after that they were both too content, too... sated, as if they had done things Cas couldn't think of without a vibrant blush painting his cheeks. They just stood like that for what seemed like hours until Dean's stomach didn't rumble, giving them a reason to laugh. The magic was broken but that didn't mean they didn't have fun after that.

They ate, Cas just a little while Dean wolfed down 3 sandwiches and 2 apples. It should have been bothersome, even a little scary, but the priest found it plain adorable. Which was maybe more scary. They chased each other around the field and even returned to the water. The last one wasn't such an adventure, though, considering that Dean refused to splash him or let him go too far away.

Walking hand in hand, Cas felt so overwhelmed and couply, simple happy. So of course reality hurried to remind him of its presence. As soon as they entered the village Dean let his hand fall to his side and moved a step away. Distinctly, he remembered begging the other man not to hold his hands in public and he had to suppress a hysterical laughter because now the only thing he wanted was to grasp that hand and never let go.

But that way it was safer. Dean was looking out for them both, this world was a cold and scary place, nothing like the one they had spent the previous few hours in. Too much religion wasn't any better than no religion at all.

He tried to explain it to his heart but it refused to listen, continuing to act broken. That little traitor.

"And here we are... in bed... at 8 o'clock." Dean  
faked a sigh as he tucked his hand beneath the other's neck and used it to drag him closer. "What can we possibly do?"

"Sleep, you demon, I'm tired," Cas scowled but the wide grin on his face kind of ruined it.

"Demon, huh? And what does that make you?" Dean tickled his human with his free hand. Maybe he enjoyed far too much how the other squirmed in his hands but he showed it in no way as he laughed alongside him. "Hm? Tell me?"

"An angel!" Cas burst breathlessly and used the moment in which Dean stood completely frozen to wrap his own arms around the other's torso and prepare to use him as a pillow. "Your angel."

Dean smiled at the last words, his fingers finding their way into Cas' hair. Cas had no idea how true his statement was. He _was_ the demon's fallen angel and in two days he would be his _broken_ angel. And Dean... Dean would fight Heaven and Hell for that privilege. He didn't know if he would survive, he had no idea if Cas would want him when he got his memories back but there was one thing in which he was certain. There would be a fight, no matter what.

"I love you, Cas," he whispered in the sun-lit room. Even he had no idea to whom those words were directed, but he meant them, and soon enough it wouldn't even matter.

Only silence met his confession and he smiled gently. He turned on his side and fitted Cas so their bodies blended together so well that no one would know which limb was whose. And maybe the best feeling in the world was that he knew he had the right to do it.

But as he was falling asleep a weird thought occupied his mind. It had been so obvious and yet for those days he had never, not even once, mulled over it. Then again, he had never been good with numbers. But once he realized it, he couldn't shake it off. 500 divided by 21 wasn't a whole number.


	7. Day Six

**A/N **I did it! And under six months on top of that! I will try to finish the next chapter this year but... yeah... who am I kidding? Anyway, there are some unanswered question but don't worry, we have one more chapter to go. And I kinda think I screwed up with this chapter because every time I started writing I remembered all those creepy guys that were stalking my story (I'm joking, I love you all and all of the attention! (but it really is distracting)) The previous times I was writing for myself and the 2-3 people who had the nerve to wait for me and now... Well, enjoy.

Chapter 6

Day Six

a. k. a.

We Share The Same Disease

Dean's dreams were filled with blood, broken wings and shattered vessels. With cries of agony and his loved one dying in his arms. Then he woke up and didn't care.

Not when he woke up with the man he had wanted for centuries on top of him, his warmth caressing his skin and his scent- tickling his senses. The body was so soft compared to his own, so fragile and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around it and protect it. To memorize its every curve.

Not even when the punch of his dream-man connected with his jaw with a force able to knock out his teeth.

"You demonic creature," Cas snarled, eyes shining with fiery rage. And how sad it was that this was all it took for Dean to understand. The man on top of him remembered, knew. Hows, whys, 'but-that-is-not-possible's filled his mind and left it just as quickly with the gentle help of another punch. It also did a wonderful job at reminding him that he didn't have to stand all that beating. In one swift move, Dean rolled them so he was on top, caught the other's wrists and pressed them together.

"Cas?" And this time he knew who he was calling. Apparently, the former angel knew it too.

The man in question tried to escape but all in vain. No matter how much he squirmed, kicked and tried to bite, Dean was stronger, and maybe a little bit fucked up in the head because all that contact did things to his body that no normal person should feel when the human they have been holding last night was now trying to kick them in the nuts. And that was Castiel's problem. Even with the memories of an angel he was still in a mortal body. At least until he died, which if it was up to Dean would never happen.

"How could you?" Cas finally relaxed in his grip, exhausted. There was something in his voice that implied mental apart from the obvious physical tiredness, something the demon couldn't dwell on before he had heard the whole story. "I knew you have changed but I could never guess... There is nothing human left in you, is there, Dean?"

"Shut your pie-hole!" Dean snapped, his grip tightening. Regret washed over his body almost instantly when the other flinched. He sighed. "Don't. Cas... I changed."

"I lived many lives, Dean, and I learned a lot. You are not the same person, too. Master in torture? Feared equally by demons and angels." He noticed the look of surprise on the green-eyed man and rolled his eyes, which made the other's astonishment grow because the man before Dean looked and sounded nothing like the Cas he had known long ago. "It doesn't matter how I know. What I want to know is why did you trick me?"

"If you are talking about you falling in love with me I didn't do anything. Well, I did something to make it happen but... What I_ mean_ is that I didn't trick you into it!"

If it was possible Cas was even more angry and his skin flushed red. Dean, the horny dog he was, couldn't help but think of other ways he could make the man bellow him blush and after a few seconds, when he remembered the situation he was in, hoped the other wouldn't notice. Luckily, Cas was too busy giving him a dressing-down and the demon decided to focus on that because hopefully sooner or later he was going to be given the right to defend himself and he had to know what had he done.

"...has nothing to do with my non-existing feelings for you. You could have just played with me, it wouldn't be the first time nor the last. This Dean I know. But, no, it was too ordinary for you, wasn't it? You had to trick me into selling my soul. And _this_ is low, even for you."

"I had never..." Realization dawned on his face and cut his words short. Had Cas really believed... He was a demon but to do this...

"No, I was talking about that one time you made me go to a grocery store and ask for carrots- 'extra large for optimum anal pleasure'. Of course I was talking about the deal we made, you idiot."

A few endless moments they stared at one another, Dean trying to make sense of what was happening and find the best way to tell the truth and Cas... well, Cas looked like he was imagining all the things he would do to the man who was holding him if he ever got the chance. It wasn't a very kind and optimistic look.

"You talk differently," and that, that was the garbage that spurt from the demon's mouth once he opened it. Cas just shrugged, as much as a person bonded to a bed could.

"23 reincarnations. Now each memory of those lives is cramped in my scull, trying to force its way out. I was a mob boss once, back in the days when they ruled everything. Drug dealer, started out as a small child that wanted everyone to feel as bad as he did. A murderer who took the life of so many young women. All those times I was born with a purpose, with feelings planted inside of me. I was never free, not until now. And do you know what I desire more than anything? I want to_ skin_ you, Dean Winchester."

With a power uncharacteristic for a twenty-year-old boy who was supposed to have the energy of a snail, Cas wrapped his legs around the other's torso and swung them- first to the left and then to the right and then to the left again but this time the move did a little more than just make Dean feel a tad dizzy. It reversed their positions. And if that wasn't a complete blow to the demon's ego, the _priest_ managed to do it in a matter of seconds. Dean was so blaming his libido for that one.

However, he had no time to blame anything for his predicament because Cas was straddling him and he would have enjoyed it if it wasn't for the wild look in the human's eyes. And if he wasn't getting turned on by something clearly sexual, but only in his mind, then the situation was bad.

"Wait! Cas, wait." There was urgency in his voice, the existence of which he was only willing to explain with the naked rage in the eyes of the man before him. Surprisingly, that approach didn't work and he was forced to think of another. Even more surprisingly he didn't need a lot of time. Dean relaxed his muscles and softened his eyes, the intent to attack only clear by his thoughts. "It wasn't a deal! I won't take your soul, I just wanted to kis... "

Bright light cut him off. Well, it did nothing to his vocal cords but it was that unexpected light to wrap around you and lightly, ha, detach from you a man that had been seconds away from ripping your head off that he closed his mouth. Cas landed on Dean's side and they both stared at the ridiculously normal ceiling, that was probably mocking them with its ordinary and just when the demon was starting to doubt his sanity he finally spotted it. The only thing that didn't look like it was coming from "Religious Home, Daily Magazine For All Of You, Good Samaritans" was the massive golden door hanging mid-air. The demon jerked his head toward it and jumped out of the bed, Cas following close behind. United in their bewilderment they had forgotten their differences. For now.

Dean had expected everything. A demon in Heaven, because the door had sent them right in Heaven, he could feel it with every fibre of his body, who knew how the angels were going to react. Now, they really lacked in imagination but were persistent little shits, he could give them that. They could break anyone. And there were too many for him to handle. Needless to say, he had been freaked out to put it mildly but ready to fight nonetheless, even if it was for a man that didn't want to have anything to do with him.

What hadn't been one of the million scenarios that had crossed his mind was that someone would attack him as soon as he had crossed the threshold and hug the life out of him. And what had been even more unlikely was that he would return the hug, his body and that of the other person fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

"Treason I can forgive but incest? With my _mate_? Take your hands off, Winchester."

Dean had no intentions to listen to that damn loud voice that seemed to echo right in his mind but his companion slowly started to pull away. So the only thing the demon could do was hold tight until he himself started feeling like he'd grown a pair.

"Good to see you, Sammy." Dean smirked at the familiar hazy eyes and floppy hair. It seemed like his brother had decided to let it grow and his hand twitched from the desire to touch it just to see how real it was. Or _if _it was real.

"You too, Dean. As devilish as before, I can see."

Not one of the best things to say to one of the most powerful demons in Hell but Dean laughed nonetheless. He had missed his brother's lame jokes.

"Yeah. And you are an angel? Must have helped that you are such a blushing virgin. "

"Shut up." Sam's cheeks turned red. "Jerk."

"Bitch." The demon's laugh was brief but more real than, apart from the previous week, had been in centuries.

Their staring-with-a-sappy-smile contest was ended by two coughs, coming from the opposite sides of the room. Dean was the first one to come to his senses and he looked around- all white, wherever you turned just white nothing, safe from the four chairs arranged in a circle a few steps away from them. Even the door was gone. One of the chairs, he noticed suddenly, was occupied by a man with red, not orange, but completely and fiery red hair and serious black eyes. Something in that scene reminded Dean of those group session he used to watch in movies and he cringed inwardly.

"So who would like to explain to me where are we and what the hell," with the corner of his eye he saw the stranger grimace but continued, charming as always," is going on."

"Um, we got you here to discuss the deal," Sam said when he and the redhead exchanged looks and then added, smirking at the disheveled clothes of the men before him. "Sorry if we interrupted something."

"For the last time- there was no fucking deal. And you didn't stop anything worth continuing."

"There was a deal, Winchester, one between my father and you. One that, fair enough, ended prematurely," the stranger started with a gravelly voice and when he noticed the flicker of comprehension on Cas' face turned all of his attention to him. "Yes, brother, or did you really think that you were humble and submissive enough to be send here?"

"Wha... "

"And who is this joker, exactly?" cut him off Dean completely. And it had no connection with the fact that he didn't want to talk about the 'deal' they had made. Nope, not one bit.

"Of course. Dean, Cas, this is Michael."

The demon started to nod, because really how strange it was to be in the same room as an archangel when the words the redhead had greeted them with appeared in his mind and painted a teasing smirk on his face.

"You sure know how to pick them, Sammy. Demons, werewolves and now an archangel who wanted to turn me into his angelic condom." His words were light, they had had a terrible life and the only important thing was that his brother had found happiness... even in the face of a tyrant, but of course Sam didn't take it like that.

"He changed, Dean. He was the one who helped you, he was the only one who protected me when you were gone, when you just disappeared." Dean couldn't help but flinch, this was a hit bellow the belt. "He stood up against his Father. He is the one who returned Cas' body and he was going to give him back his memories once your relationship was more... stable."

Dean first though after the small rant was 'Here comes Sammy, the one who didn't get the joke' but then the rest of the sentence hit him on the head with a bat.

"He was _going_ to? Then who the Hell did it? And a day earlier on top of it!"

"You don't know?"Cas stepped from behind him, blue eyes widening in surprise, the one true emotion beside anger since his change." I thought... you are the only one powerful enough to do it. And all the things you said- 'A private angel in Hell'. You wanted this, Dean, just to humour yourself."

Dean winced. "Again with that damn deal! I didn't claim your soul, I just wanted that kiss!... And what did you mean by powerful enough? Last time I checked bringing back hundreds of years old memories wasn't in the job description."

There was that tense silence that usually appears in the movies when the main character was about to find out they were adopted. Dean half-expected a violoncello to start playing in the background. What he got was even more ridiculous.

"Dean... You are not a demon," Cas said with a somber expression and the green-eyed man couldn't help it- he snorted before throwing his head back in a loud laughter.

"Yeah, what do you know? I'm a fucking fairy. Wanna see my wings?"

And as if nothing had changed. As if they were back in time when they were just a hunter and an angel, sharing lingering touches and meaningful glances, Cas only stared at him. Able to see through his mask and rude words. That was the first Castiel-ish thing that had happened all day and the demon had to repress a smile, even in the absurdness of the situation.

"You are an angel," continued Cas. "Or you were- when your heart was pure and your soul- sacred." It should have been an insult, Dean oddly took it as a simple observation. "And you weren't killed before you were sent to Hell. It shouldn't have mattered have you been a human but He gave you something. A gift no one, not even Him, could take away- He gave you a piece of His own grace. And so you were created, the one and only, ' an angel in Hell', " Cas smiled sadly as if the taste of the words had burnt his tongue but he didn't have the strength to even feel the pain. " Angels are as strong as the pain they have suffered and you, Dean Winchester, have been through more than any of us. You are our saviour. Or so they think, hopeless fools."

Three heads whipped in his direction, six eyes widened and two angry shouts were heard. Cas, with his infamous ability to ignore everything that had nothing to do with Dean, focused all of his attention to the demon/angel walking toward him with a slow step and fire in his eyes. The last one the priest hadn't seen in ages but it had been the only thing he had known to expect.

"And what do you think?" The voice was quiet, challenging, and Castiel knew he should have backed off, he had seen what this rage could do, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Half a millennium is too long, you have changed more than any of them could guess. But I know what you are. Demon scum and nothing more. Nevertheless, I don't see how that concerns me, I'd like to be returned now."

Anger quickly swapped places with wonder. "But you'll get your grace tomorrow."

"Then today would be the last day I spend as a human before my life begins as a crying toddle." The only human in the room didn't wait for response, maybe a little scared of what it might be, and turned around. He had managed 3 steps before someone stopped him by wrapping their arm around his middle.

"You are not going anywhere," Dean snapped in his ear and he froze, chills running down his spine. The demon was going to... but he couldn't... they won't let him! Or at least he hoped they won't. But they were angels, not only they wouldn't help Cas but they would gladly assist the green-eyed man. He almost jumped when Dean said something again, but with relief found out it was intended to the other two who had been watching the exchange in silence. "Let's all just stop. Just think. Why this man wants to rip the grace out of his warm body and nobody here won't even _blink_? He is your brother, isn't he? Huh, Sammy? Or you make a habit out of leaving brothers behind?"

As soon as Dean said it, even before that, when the words were being formed inside of his brain, he wanted to take it back. It was only his grief and pain for the man in his arms that was talking. What had made him feel so weak that he wanted to give his immortality up, to give Dean up, all of their memories together? And where had Dean been when this had been happening?

"You left me! Not the other way around. And I fought every day for 500 years to get you back," Sam growled at him. Michael was up in a flash and near him even faster. The archangel wrapped his fingers around his mate's wrist and tugged once, gently, reassuringly. Dean was about to ask what kind of mojo the redhead was using as Sam turned around and sent him a lazy smile, because the thing that could stop his little brother from bitching? priceless, just priceless, when Michael turned toward him,

"He had certain ways of breaking Castiel. No one would judge him if he were to decide to leave our home."

"_Certain ways_?"

"As if you don't know," Cas finally found his voice but it sounded more like the one of a hissing snake. "He gave me to you. Living my lives by his rules was the easy part, dying in the most painful ways known to humans wasn't enough, being tortured by memories was just grazing the top. After each life ended he left me in your 'skillful' hands." The human tried to get out of the other's embrace and Dean let him, taking his wrist instead.

The result it had was slightly different from the one it had had on Sam when Michael was the one to do it. The former angel ripped his hand from Dean's grip, his cheeks turning red. If the demon/angel hadn't been so overwhelmed by everything that was happening he would have noticed the sheer panic in the human's eyes, the slight trembling of his lips that indicated he was _this_ close to tears, the way his fists clenched and unclenched.

Now... now he noticed as well. He was always so well tuned to the 'Cas-station', no matter what, no matter when.

"You should have seen them. Angels and demons working as one... to show a traitor his place. "

The last thing was his undoing. Memories hit him like a hurricane, twisting and squeezing him in its painful grasp, sucking the air out of his lungs. Those 'tests'... he groaned, he wanted to hit something, preferably himself, multiple times. And he felt as sick as if he had already done it.

"Am I needed?" he asked suddenly, turning toward the other two. They stared at him with identical expressions of a fish-out-of-water and as much as it hurt him, he didn't want to waste any more time, he tried again, "I'm that super-mega powerful angel that will save you and all that shit. Do you need me _right now_?

Michael and Sam shared a look and then shook their heads.

"Good. Cas, let's go."

He pressed his hand on the other's small back. It was immediately shrugged off but he counted it as a victory. With the hatred the priest had spoken he had feared it might be chopped from his body. Still, it was nice to know where the line was and that you weren't currently crossing it.

Dean quickly zapped them back to their room, which was considerably easier once you have realized you are the most powerful angel walking on Earth. The last part he still had trouble believing. Sure, now some things made sense- the powers he had that no other demon shared, like the time traveling he had used to keep an eye on Cas, the respect others showed- which was probably due to the fact that he could kill them, a thing that wasn't very demonic either, Alastair... Alastair, he clenched his teeth. The son of a bitch was going to pay for tricking him into this.

He himself should have seen it, shouldn't have hurt something that looked like his former almost-lover. He hadn't known. That of course didn't lessen the guilt or the pain and he promised himself he was going to wallow in it but later. Now he had some work to do.

"I... I will be back," he offered. Cas simply stared at him with dead eyes. It hurt almost as much as the memories of what he had done. Unable to bear it any longer, he turned to leave.

"Was it better?" suddenly questioned the human. When Dean faced him he opted to stare at the blank wall. "That you thought it was an illusion. Did it make it easier?"

"No." The wind wrapped greedily around the whispered word and took it far away from them but Dean had no energy to repeat it.

"It was hard only at the beginning. Then I taught myself to forget, to see someone else's face when I cut the body I wanted so much to caress." That should have been the demon's answer. That was the reality he wanted to believe in. It was the only truth he could accept.

He returned much later, when the sun was hiding from view, the only few lost sun-rays giving the garden a heavenly glow. Which, no, was the last thing Dean wanted to think about right now. But it made him a little bit happy, even if it was for an insane reason. You see, he had had that gnawing suspicion that when he returned he would find the house gone or Castiel waiting for him with a silver knife in his arms.

The last thing he had been expecting, and wasn't that happening too often, was a pair of waiting hands to open before him, drawing him closer to welcoming heat. He relaxed into the embrace, his insides burning from the happiness that simple act of intimacy provoked. Dean had never believed he would get to do that so he held on tight until the other let him and even more. The lack of knowledge of what was happening did nothing to lessen the intense feelings he felt. It just reminded him of how fragile his situation was and that he had to enjoy the things he was given when he had the chance.

"Where were you? I woke up a while ago and it was already in the afternoon. I had no memory of the whole day and if that wasn't enough you were nowhere to be found! I worried sick," scolded him the priest and Dean's lips twitched into a smile. Oh, how he longed to kiss those lips even if he had to sacrifice those heart-warming sounds. He leaned forward, just a centimeter before he remembered that the real Cas could come back any moment and raping his memory-free duplicate, even if it wouldn't be much of a rape if the human liked it, wasn't the best way of winning his heart.

"Where were you?" the other insisted and the demon had to stop himself from wincing when unwanted memories attacked his brain. Black flashed before his eyes, screams and screeches echoed from the walls of the small room. The only one question 'Did you know?' louder than them all. Some had shook their head, some had nodded, the fate of the previous ones known to them. He killed them all. Quickly, not like he had originally planned. Oh, but they were just an appetizer, they were just some extra fun till he got to the main thing in the menu. And with _it_ he had spent most of his time.

"I thought I had lost something in the forest and went to search for it," he explained, hoping against hope that his thoughts weren't visible on his face.

"And did you find it?" Cas wet his lips and the demon/angel was instantly lost from the pictures that this innocent act awoke in his mind.

"Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Did you find it?" The former angel was trying to get his attention by scowling but what really caught him was the light, teasing voice and the cheeks, round with silent laughter.

"No. You can help me."_ If you don't go back to your homicidal nature and attack me with a bough _. But, hey, maybe searching for a non-existing trinket might help them bond... yeah... Most probably Cas' idea of bonding was him chasing the demon with a knife and then, if Dean was lucky and Cas was feeling generous, snuggling with one of his hands.

"We could," Cas whispered, nodding, and there was something in his eyes the other couldn't quite pinpoint. "Or we could do other... more... interesting... things."

He emphasized the last four words with a roll of the hips, a sinful smirk playing on his face that didn't really go well with the sleeping angel inside of him. The thing in his eyes was now definitely lust. Dean. Well, Dean was too busy freaking out and trying to fight both guilt and temptation to notice anything else than the slowly hardening member right next to his own. And the way his own cock reacted to his fellow. Which, really, wasn't a very good thing because he could just see Cas attacking him in his sleep and tearing off his limbs one by one, starting with the one at fault for the situation.

That thought managed to sober him enough and he quickly stepped away from the embrace.

"Later," he nearly moaned, eyes set on the human's mouth. One taste, that's all he wanted. One final taste, it wouldn't hurt, one touch couldn't make Cas hate him more (was that even possible). One... no. He liked his cock where it was. "Let's find you something to eat, now, you must be starving."

"Okay!"

Cas jumped like an overjoyed little child and... kissed him.

There was nothing childish in the kiss.

And it had nothing to with their kiss in the car. It was gentle, soft and warm. But maybe the last thing was because of their bodies glued together. Maybe. Innocent at the beginning, violent- never. Neither of them tried to dominate it, they moved in synchrony and it was wonderful. As if they were reading each other's minds- the kiss varied from soft to hard and bruising and every time one of them changed the pace the other acted like he'd expected it. He had.

Finally, they separated with mirrored looks of dazed amazement.

"You know, I think I like you more than I thought, Dean Winchester."

The priest smiled and the demon/ angel couldn't help but return it weakly. The idea of Cas-the-angel killing him didn't scare him as much as it should, at least he was going to leave this world with the knowledge that the angel wanted him, or_ would have_ wanted him if he didn't remember. That was if the one before him didn't give him a heart attack first, Dean noted grimly when the human winked at him and moved for another kiss. One that, sadly, he refused. It was that much that a healthy man could take before the need to jump his companion overtook his body. And even if he knew Cas liked him enough to let him do things to his body he had dreamed of ever since he was mortal that didn't mean he would ever do something he knew the other would regret in a few hours.

Dean valued his broken angel far too much.

* * *

"He killed Alastair?"

"Mhm. Hell is in complete chaos now. Was that what you wanted?"

"It _was_ one of the expected outcomes... Your brother is a very loyal man. I just needed to see where his loyalty laid."


	8. Day Seven

**A/N **Yes! It is over! There were times, I didn't know if I would finish it, but I managed. And you managed with me... people who I made wait 2 years for 8 chapters... I'm a horrible person, aren't I? Yeah.. well, enjoy.

Chapter 7

Day Seven

a.k.a

Seven Days Are All It Takes

Dean couldn't believe his eyes when he came downstairs the morning after. The whole room was a mess- the dishes still sat on the table, staring at him wordlessly, the cover on the sofa was wrinkled, there was a book lying on the floor, and the TV... the TV was still on, buzzing softly, whispering of sweet cuddles and tempting warmth. But something was wrong in this picture, something so out of place he couldn't put it back. Because someone must have taken care of all this, there were millions of demons just dying, figuratively speaking, to get out of Hell, even if they had to do housework as a result.

And you would think after he had killed their king, they would be tripping over themselves to kiss his ass. Those were demons for you- damn unreliable.

He sighed and, instead of continuing to try to understand the mentality of such low creatures, he opted for cleaning the house instead. It was a tedious job, monotone and painfully dull, but it was enough to occupy his mind and make sure it didn't stray in a Cas... bad, he meant bad, direction. It was enough to forget, even for a second, the body he had woken up next to, the first thing that he had seen.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and he twisted around, body tense and ready for battle, fingers curling around the dishes, ready to use them if necessary, no matter how ridiculous. He knew who it was of course, that aroma he could never mistake, but it was an instinct engraved in his bones. It has always been kill or being killed and his time in Hell hadn't helped much to make that side of him disappear.

Castiel nodded in his direction, his hands fumbling with the tie. Dean knew he should feel intimidated or at least a little bit threatened. Because there was the angel who had saved him so many times, who had suffered the most, more than even himself, and he had been trained by the best. The most powerful angel in _his_ eyes, with his brown trench coat and wrinkled suit and piercing blue eyes. With bed hair, and that, that brought back all sorts of memories that he didn't know he will ever have the will power to delete And he had used that angel, for one last perfect day. Yet all he could sense inside of him was a swelling ball of adoration and gentleness. He scratched his neck, doing his best to suppress the urge to smile, or worse- to shower the other's face with kisses.

"I'm sorry about yest..." he begun when the silence stretched for far too long, when he felt those eyes had bored holes in his skull enough eternities.

"It was enjoyable." Shaking his head slightly, Cas interrupted him. He _finally_ ducked his head, because of the incredulous look Dean sent his way. At least the angel took it as shock when it fact it was only an attempt to cover the hopefulness and the earning. "I'm an angel- I can't lie. I had a very good time. We would have made a fine couple, you and me, if I hadn't remembered."

Dean was just about to make a comment about those words, which usually would have earned him a blond bimbo on his lap in ten seconds flat when Cas tilted his head and continued in an indifferent voice. It was almost like a change of his personality and thinking back the demon/angel was almost glad it had happened. Something told him his witty remark wouldn't have been given the same recognition it deserved.

"He is calling for you."

"Who? Where?" He grimaced. He didn't need the answers to those questions. "About what?"

It had to be a fucking emergency if _he_ was expecting him to leave Cas alone. Not after memories of yesterday, of the promise the now fully developed angel had made. Actually, now that he thought about it, not even Heaven being on fire could make him take his eyes off Castiel for even a second.

The other smiled. Dean didn't really know if it was supposed to look that way, or Cas had been aiming for a grimace and in the last second had gone for lifting the corners of his mouth.

"You think Michael did it all for you? He had been after the throne for so long, ever since you were just aimlessly swimming fishes." Something appeared in his eyes, but he averted them before Dean could figure out what it was. "It would be the same thing, now. Heaven won't change, it will stay corrupted, wicked, with everyone who is different, who has an opinion or show emotions cast aside... the same. And they want _you_ to be a part of it."

Cas nodded once, more to himself than to Dean. "I should go, then. Goodbye, Dean. I'd say I'd be glad to meet you again, but as you know I'm an angel."

The first thing that Dean wanted to do was argue, about anything and everything, even about nothing if it would keep his angel close. He didn't want to be a part of any universal plan, he didn't want to rule the world. He had never done that.

And it must have been tempting, for someone who had never been able to choose his fate to be the master of the whole world. But if he had to choose between this and a few more seconds with Castiel... well, reign supreme, hell, anything, didn't stand a chance.

So, there was nothing more important than chasing after the other man in his mind. And maybe even telling him how he felt. It could be alright, couldn't it? They had both been through so much that they deserved a little happiness. It was nice to hope.

Of course, when he turned around to put down the dishes still in his hands, a bright light surrounded him. He briefly wondered if celestial creatures felt pain as he prepared himself to use the dishes in a way they had never been used before.

Hours and so much yelling and insults later, Dean found his angel sitting on a bench in front of a church. It hadn't been hard to spot him, all of his senses assisting him in his quest and he _knew_ he had come as soon as possible. Nevertheless, the gnawing fear that he had been too late, that he had taken too long with Michael, was killing him.

Castiel lifted his head and his hollow eyes met Dean's pained ones. It was the stare of a stranger, carefully empty, not like before. The way Dean was used to- empty, but only on the surface. If you scratched it you would find emotions brighter than you have ever seen, hear laughter, brief but able to bring your heart the joy it didn't know it was missing.

There was nothing like that here.

And Dean hated the relief that washed through him when the other looked away.

"Do you remember this?" Cas asked slowly, each sound pronounced clearly, as if afraid he might forget a word if he spoke faster. "It was a playground. Long ago. But people decided they needed more churches."

Dean looked around briefly, too scared that if he took his eyes off the other he might disappear, and sure enough, he remembered that place. It had been here where he first saw Castiel as something more than a mighty prick. The first time that he looked at him and thought, 'He is not that bad, this angel'. Something twisted in him and he squirmed in his seat. Castiel still hadn't moved.

"I fell in love with you on that bench."

The demon/angel suddenly felt like he had ran a hundred miles and his heart was beating so fast it might have looked like it wasn't moving at all. He opened his mouth, gulping air desperately and he just knew that hadn't he been a supernatural creature he would have hyperventilated already.

"Oh...that's..."

"Pathetic?"

Cas ducked his head, eyes searching the other's face, but now it was Dean's turn to be stuck motionless.

"Sweet," the other whispered. "Oh, Cas." His lips twitched, threatening to let the laughter bubbling in his chest out. But one look at his companion told him it wouldn't be that easy. It rarely was.

"So what do you intend to do now?" The line was strangely familiar, sodden with uncertainty and fear, just like the last time he had spoken it.

"My grace would need a little time to settle. Then I would carry on with my initial wish."

"So you are still going to do it?" His voice was a little higher than he expected and a lot quieter than in his mind was reasonable for response to such a thing. When Cas didn't reply, didn't move at all, he had to do everything in his willpower to stop himself from bursting out. "For fuck's sake, Cas, why don't you give me a chance? A year, a month, hell, I will be happy with a day if it means there is a possibility to change your mind."

"I don't think you will like the new me." The words were spoken so lightly that if it hadn't been for the grief to make them heavy, they would have disappeared into the thin air before being heard.

Dean shook his head."It's not about me. I fell in love with angel- Cas and human- Cas, don't doubt for a second that I won't, that I _don't_, love you. But you are the one who has to fight the bad memories, angel. To try to outweigh them with good ones. And that's all I'm asking- let me help you live with those memories."

"And what if I can't?"

A long time passed until Dean replied. And when he did, his voice was gravelly. "I can tell you that you will get over them, I can promise that it'll get better, but I won't." He sighed and then smiled, it was a little strained, as if his muscles were refusing to cooperate, however, it was all he could manage. "I can't lie to you. But I can erase them."

He twisted in his seat, his hands raising in the universal sign of "I'm harmless" And he was, so much that a week ago he would have been disgusted with himself. He meant only good- Cas' good. And if by any chance that didn't mean _his_ good, too, then, well... tough luck.

Dean wrapped his hands around Cas' head, his fingers twisting in dark lock, the only luxury he allowed himself.

After all, if that was the last time he was talking to Cas as he had known him, the last time he was allowed to touch him... He didn't let himself finish that thought. It was too painful, but he also risked talking himself out of it. And there was no scenario in which he didn't respect his former lover's wish.

So focused on his task, he almost jumped when a second pair of hands pressed against his own, entwining their fingers together. He was insulted, for a second, how dared Cas doubt his devotion, when he was forsaking everything for him. But then he felt a tug and his heart almost stopped.

Dean had to be mistaken, it couldn't be so easy. He never got what he wanted. But the seed of blind, consuming faith was planted and he let himself relax, just so he could see what would happen. And sure enough, as he had dared to hope for half a second, Castiel removed his hands.

"Give you a day, you say?" The angel smiled and it was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. "Why not seven?"

The other had just enough brain left to respond appropriately- by leaning forward and connecting their lips in a sweet kiss.

**A/N** I'm also thinking about an epilogue, since it would be interesting (for me) to see how it will go. I dunno... I will do my best to write one.


End file.
